#your sons put on the mask of robin and take it off to be who they are

[casually-eat-my-soul]

“Bruce Wayne is just a mask, Batman is who I really am” okay mister Bat “Brucie Wayne” Man your real identity is your fursona?? no wonder your kids don’t talk to you.

[suzukiblu]

WIP guessing game: help

"I know about Billy, Marvel," Batman says, and Billy . . . blinks.

"You know?!" he sputters. Okay, so apparently his secret identity was just . . . literally never a secret at all, then. Which, well–Batman, so that just figures, really. So actually this is kind of a relief and might even mean that he's fine with–

"Yes," Batman confirms with a nod. "So I understand your current reservations about parenthood."

. . . wait what.

"Huh?" Billy says, blinking stupidly at him.

"I don't know how much of you is still C.C. Batson or what you do or don't remember about being him," Batman says. "But the resemblance is undeniable, if nothing else. Certainly your and your wife's deaths were . . . well, suspicious. And you're hardly the first archeologists to dig up a god or six."

Oh, okay. Well.

This is apparently what Billy gets for his personal mental image of a "hero" being his dad, then, isn't it.

Crap.

"To be honest I've been looking for Billy for a while now, I just didn't want to bring it up before I found him," Batman admits, looking dissatisfied with himself. "My most recent reliable intel puts him in Fawcett City, but I assume you're aware of that, given your evident attachment to the place."

"You're looking for Billy?" Billy asks incredulously. "Why?"

"Because he's your son," Batman says. "And because he's a homeless child who's been abused and neglected and needs help. I honestly don't know where you go when you're not being Captain Marvel–frankly I'm not sure if you even exist when you're not being Captain Marvel, given what little I actually know about your powers and your death and your role as the Champion of Magic and just how damn impossible you are to find when you're off-duty–but I'm assuming that wherever it happens to be is not necessarily conducive to providing a stable home environment and being legally dead certainly can't be helping with that, so my original intention was to find the boy and help you arrange some manner of care for and visitation with him. And given the revelation of your relation to Robin, well . . . I'd like to take Billy in myself, if you'd both be comfortable with that. It seems . . . appropriate, under the circumstances."

"You want to foster Billy because I'm Robin's soulmate?" Billy says, absolutely positive that he's misunderstood literally every single word that just came out of Batman's mouth. There is no possible way that he did not.

"It's not exactly out of my wheelhouse," Batman replies wryly. "Although I'll be keeping this one out of the tights, ideally. Though I make no long-term promises about that because quite frankly at this point I'm spoiled for soulmates who insist on wearing capes and I wouldn't really be surprised to turn up another one, especially given that Robin is yours and your own involvement in the superhero community."

Billy stares at him.

"Wait, are all the Gotham vigilantes your soulkids?" he blurts unthinkingly.

"Not all," Batman says. "But, well . . . probably more of them than you'd expect."

"Oh my god," Billy says in disbelief. "And you're just telling me that?! You don't tell people things, you're Batman!"

"I haven't always been the father I should have been," Batman says, and then he pulls down his cowl. Billy chokes, and then chokes again because apparently Batman is Bruce freaking Wayne and his brain just . . . just needs a moment to process that fact, like there is literally any way whatsoever that he could ever actually process that fact. He would've been less surprised to see a Kardashian under that mask, he's pretty sure. At least they've got athletes in the family, technically! "So I'm not going to make things difficult for you with Robin. Clearly he needs more than I'm capable of providing, and I'm perfectly willing to be transparent and to co-parent with you as much as possible. I want Robin to be safe and content and grow up well, and frankly put, Batson, you've proven yourself to be a good man time and again and I trust you to do what's best by our son."

Okay, well, now Billy just feels like dirt.

"You do know what happened to Billy, don't you?" he asks just a little bit desperately, because there is literally no way that this conversation is a real and actual thing that's really and actually happening. "Like, just–everything that happened there? There's a reason he's not in school or the system or with a relative or anything like that."

"What happened to Billy wasn't your fault," Batman tells him, meeting his eyes all quiet and intent and sincere. "And I will do everything in my power to help you make it right."

"Oh no, you're actually like . . . just genuinely a really good person, aren't you," Billy says despairingly, staring at him all over again and really, really wishing he could swear right now.

Maybe he'll just go throw himself into the sun. Maybe that's what he'll just go and do.

The corner of Batman's mouth quirks up wryly. His eyes even crinkle a little, which Billy can see on account of his total lack of cowl right now, oh god.

Billy despairs.

"I mean it," Batman says gently. "It wasn't your fault, and it doesn't mean you can't be a good father now."

"I need to talk to Robin," Billy says, because he definitely, definitely needs to talk to Robin. Batman inclines his head in an accepting nod, because Batman is probably under the impression that Billy wants to go give Robin a good ol' traditional "I know I'm not your biodad but I'm here for you, champ!" kind of speech, and Billy just . . . really cannot explain the real situation to him right now. Or ever.

Can he just lie to Batman for the rest of their lives, maybe? He can just pretend to be his own dad for the Justice League and keep dodging whatever Bat-surveillance happens to be in Fawcett and parent his older-than-he-is soulmate, right? That's a thing that he can do?

That's probably not a thing that he can do.

Although he might be willing to try, at this point.

[charlieeenby]

let me show you how to kill a man

the bat won't kill, it's a line he won't cross. his birds, however, are a different story

warnings and tags: murder, violence, injury

title from how to kill a man by bloody civilian

What everyone knows, is that Batman doesn’t kill. He can’t, or won’t, cross that line, and he doesn’t think that killing is the answer.

But he knows that it’s necessary sometimes, and while he’ll never kill, he knows that his children don’t share the same sentiment.

So when it comes down to it, he lets them, and over the years, he’s gotten a little more lax with that rule, trusting his children’s judgement of a situation, and when they need to, he turns his back, doesn’t acknowledge it, and let’s them do what they have to.

But he’s managed to keep it a secret from most, only a select few surviving his the feral sides every one of his children hid from most of the world.

A group of four men stood with their backs facing each other, knives and fists up, ready, for a fight.

But they wouldn’t get one. Batman dropped down from the rafters, but he seemed focused on the kids the men had placed in cages.

Before any of them could react, Nightwing dropped on top of one of them, snapping his neck in one fluid motion. Then he lunged for a second. The other two tried to attack him, but he was able to fend them off, on taking a blow to the face from an escrima stick, the other, a kick to the knee.

Nightwing snapped the neck of the man under him, then stepped to the one who’s knee he’s kicked in. He reached down and snapped his neck. Then he moved over to the fourth man, who swung his knife at him. Nightwing grabbed it, twisting it out of his hand, then stabbed him in the throat, no screams able to escape.

He stood, made sure there was no blood on his suit, then made his way over to Batman and the kids, helping his father get all of them home safe.

Afterwards, Batman asked him if the goons had been handled.

“Of course. Quick and quiet. Hood’s gonna take care of the rest.”

“Good. Let’s go home.”

“Batman doesn’t kill, which means you can’t stop me!”

Gordon growled under his breath, wishing at that moment that Batman did kill, because if someone didn’t kill this weeks psycho, he’d end up leveling the city a few months down the line.

When he looked over to Batman, he was surprised to see that the man had straightened up, hands relaxed at his sides. He had an odd expression on his face, on Gordon couldn’t quite read.

Then he said, very calmly, “You’re right. I don’t kill. I can’t stop you.” Gordon watched him put a hand on his belt for a brief second before dropping it to his side.

The rouge started cackling, ranting and raving about how he was going to be the first to beat Batman, but when he looked down at Batman, and saw the smirk on his face, he stopped.

“Why are you smiling like that?” he yelled, panic clear in his voice.

“I don’t kill, but he does.” Batman said.

“Who -” he was cut off by a gunshot and a bullet piercing his skull. Gordon looked up and found the Red Hood with a rifle.

“He killed almost an entire army, Batman!” Ra’s screamed. “He blew them up because I upset him.”

Batman leveled him with a blank look, but said nothing.

“You don’t kill. Are you going to just let your son kill of thousands of people?”

For a beat, Batman stayed quiet. Then he said. “I don’t let Red Robin do anything. He does what he wants, and you tried to blackmail and kill him. You threatened him, his friends and his family. What he did to keep them safe is not in my control.

“I don’t kill, but if he found it necessary, then I trust his judgement. I’m sure you’ll recover, Ra’s.”

Ra’s stared at him, and Batman turned and guided Red Robin and his team out of Ra’s’ palace.

“Batman, control your hell spawn!” Black Mask screamed, though it was cut off with a gurgle. Robin drove his sword through the crime lord’s throat, and Batman turned away, working through the files on the computer.

Robin came over to his side, blood on his face and sword.

Batman glanced at him, then said, “You have blood on your face. Please clean it off before we talk to the Commissioner.”

“Yes, Father.” Robin did as asked, making sure his face was clear of blood, then followed his father out of the hotel and onto the street where Gordon and his men were waiting.

“Batman. Are we clear to enter?”

“Yes. Black Mask is dead.” Batman said, handing over a flash drive to Gordon. “I have a copy as well.”

Gordon nodded slowly. “Dead?”

“He attacked Robin. Robin defended himself.” Batman said simply. Then he used his grapple gun to launch himself to a roof, Robin following closely behind.

“Okay, then.” Gordon said to himself, not sure how to react to that, especially after he'd seen Red Hood shoot a man after it seemed like Batman had given him the go ahead. 

While Barbra was Batgirl, she was safety and a warm light for the victims they all saved together. She was inspiration for little girls. She was violence, sure, but she was comfort, too.

Tonight, she was all violence. She and Batman had arrived a moment too late, and she was angry. She wanted vengeance and she would have it. Not even Batman would stop her.

No one could stop her when she rose from that little girls body and stepped forward, pulling out the knife her father had given her for her birthday. No one could stop her when she lunged, blade plunging into the killer’s throat, tearing it open. Blood spirted, spraying across her face.

And no one stopped her.

When the man was dead, and she was the killer, she stepped back, and looked to Batman.

He had bundled up the dead girl, wrapped her in his cape and covered her face. And then he had waited for Batgirl to finish. He looked at her for a moment, then nodded once.

“Go back to the cave and clean up. I’ll handle this.” he spoke softly, and there was no anger in his tone.

“Okay,” she said, and that was that.

Cass, Steph, and Jason were thick as thieves, and these days, Bruce rarely sees one without the other, especially on patrol.

So it didn’t come as much of a surprise when Spoiler called in saying that she, Orphan, and Hood needed backup.

Batman responded to the call, Nightwing a minute behind. When he arrived, he could hear fighting in the alleyway, but no gunshots, which worried him. Hood was quick to fire his guns when his siblings were in danger, and of all the times for him to use them.

But the air didn’t echo, it was still, quiet.

Batman dropped into the alleyway in time to watch Spoiler yank a knife from Orphan’s shaking hand, spin on her heel, and plunge the blade into a man’s eye, grinning under her mask as he screamed.

Hood came up behind the man and pulled a batarang across his throat, blood spilling down his chest. Even though he couldn’t see Hood’s face, Batman had the distinct impression that he had a grin that matched Spoiler’s.

Not pausing to hesitate, Batman moved to Orphan’s side, making sure she saw him before pulling her into a firm embrace. It was then that he saw the half dozen other bodies in the alley, all dead.

He looked to Spoiler and Hood.

Spoiler spoke up. “They attacked Orphan. She couldn’t kill them, so we did.” there was no room for argument, not that he had one.

“Thank you.”

Looking down at Orphan, he realized she was still shaking. “Sweetheart, it’s over. You’re safe.” he tried to soothe, though he wasn’t entirely sure what was wrong.

A hand rose and signed, “I thought I’d have to kill them.”

The shaking made sense now. “No, sweetheart, you will never have to kill again. I swear. And even if you did, I would still love you. You’d still be my daughter. Nothing will change that.”

Orphan laid her head on his shoulder. “Thank, you, Dad.”

“Love you, kiddo.”

Batman stood on the rooftop, watching Spoiler go after her father, a flash of purple here and there the only sign of her.

Cluemaster was no match for the girl he claimed to be the father to. He’d only hurt her, sharpened the blade.

But Spoiler was who she was in spite of her father, not because of him.

She became the one to beat him so she could save people. And when Batman had found her, he’d helped her hone the skills she already had, helped her improve. And while he’d done that, he’d given her a home, a family, and most importantly, he’d given her love.

Now she was gutting her father, preventing him from causing anymore suffering.

And when she swung up to the roof Batman was on and saw him, she ran to him, ran into his arms, and clung to him.

“He’s gone, sweetheart. He can’t hurt you or anyone ever again. You’re safe.” he whispered, holding her gently. “I’ve got you.”

While the other’s killing had never surprised Batman, Signal came as a slight surprise. But only slight. He was a bright, warm light, often reminding his family of the sun.

But the sun was fire, and fire burns. So when Signal came face to face with the Joker only a few months after losing his parents, Batman wasn’t sure what to expect.

When Signal caught sight of Joker, he snarled, and tensed up, ready to fight. The Joker had cackled and started taunting Signal.

Red Hood was about to step in when Signal grabbed Hood’s gun and fired every round into the Joker’s head, until his face was obliterated and unidentifiable. Then he’d dropped the gun and fell to his knees.

Batman stepped up next to him and set a hand on the teen’s shoulder. “He’s dead, Signal. It’s over.” he said, voice as gruff as ever.

“I know.”

For a moment, they were all quiet, not sure what to do. Then Batman offered a hand to Signal and helped him up. “You good?” he asked, looking his son over.

Signal didn’t answer right away, but then he said, “I will be… thank you.”

Batman smiled. “Of course.”

Of all the times for his children to start killing people, now was the worst time. He couldn’t just ignore it because the Justice League was here. So Batman was not having a good time.

“Batman,” Flash started, voice shrill. “Nightwing just tore a man’s head off.”

To his left, Orphan snickered, not that anyone would know aside from him, but she did. Batman sighed.

“I saw that, Flash, thank you.” What was he supposed to do?

“Batman, almost all of your… children are actively killing people. Signal and Orphan are the only one’s who aren���t.” Superman said. “Why aren’t you reacting?”

Batman looked at him. He hesitated.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Superman was an inch away, worry clear on his face.

On his right, Signal cleared his throat. “I feel like it’s a good time to point out that one, the people they’re killing are all of the rapists that have ever existed on earth, come back to life, and two, no one else is doing anything about it.”

Batman grinned. Well, the corner of his mouth ticked up, but it may as well have been a grin with the way Superman stared at him.

“Batman?” he asked incredulously.

“Hn?”

“Do something!”

Batman tilted his head, grunted, then walked over to the ledge they were all on. “Hey!” he yelled and the fighting stopped, all of his children stopping and staring at him. “Superman wants you to stop killing.”

For a good thirty seconds, no one moved or said anything. Then on the comms, Batman heard Hood snort.

“B, will you please tell Superman to, respectfully, get fucked?” Nightwing said in a sickeningly sweet voice.

Batman grunted, then turned to the League. “Superman, Nightwing told me to tell you to get fucked. Respectfully.” he said, deadpan. Then he walked back to where he was standing.

Bonus:

It had been twenty years since the Wayne’s brutal murder in that alley way, ten since Batman had started, and one since Dick had joined the family. Today, someone was breaking into the manor.

Alfred sighed as he loaded his shot gun. This would be messy to clean up, but he never missed and he didn’t share the same sentiment as his son.

So he after he finished loading it, he stepped into the hallway, moving silently towards the living room. Must be idiot intruders, thinking there’d be anything to take there.

When he stood in the doorway of the room, he raised his riffle, counted the men – there were three – then spoke.

“Hello.”

They all spun around staring wide eyed at the shot gun.

Alfred grinned. “Goodbye.” he fired three shots in quick succession, all three of them dead. Footsteps pounded down the stairs and Bruce flew around the corner, panic on his face.

“Nothing to fret over, Master Bruce.” Alfred said calmly. “I’ve handled it. The mess will be cleaned up before breakfast. Now go back to bed, dear boy.”

Bruce gave him an odd look, eyeing the shot gun, then nodded and went back to bed.

In the morning, when Bruce looked into the living room, it was spotless, nothing out of place. No one said anything about it. 

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

Fic title: Elegance, Splendor and Grace

Okay so you know the whole joke of Brad Wayne, the frat boy son of Bruce?

Make it Tiffany Wayne.

Tiffany in this AU is a normal college girl who loves make-up, shoes, fashion and dreams of being a designer. She actually does make her own clothing.

She is Bruce’s daughter after her mother decided to baby trap the man. However Bruce took in Dick when Tiffany’s mom got pregnant. Tiffany’s mom decided to lie in wait until she could use Tiffany as a bargaining chip.

Tiffany here doesn’t like her mom for multiple reasons and one was the systematic put downs regarding the girl’s interests (Mother dear wanted a child to be CEO and shit).

Now I’m thinking Dick was 9 when Tiffany was born, and he’s 29 now. Tiffany is in college in Gotham with plans to switch to a fashion school once she can land a scholarship or earn money. (Her mother refused to pay unless she took business and loans suck. Even in Gotham where Wayne Enterprises pays a lot of scholarships)

This is when Damian comes in. And Tiffany’s mom instantly comes forward. Tiffany thinks her mom is bullshitting. She’s rolling her eyes and sighing.

“I am so sorry,” Tiffany tells Bruce Wayne privately. “She’s obsessed with me somehow being a CEO or whatever and like is so controlling. Hates my passions and like it’s so annoying.”

(Unknown to her Bruce would have given her money to run off to some fashion school even if the DNA test came back negative after that.)

Surprise! Tiffany is a Wayne. Bruce offers to pay for what SHE wants and a place in the manor. She takes it to get the fuck away from her mom who flips her kid but Tiffany says ‘yeah fuck you’.

There is the drama of ‘oh come on she just wanted what was best for you’ from the public. Tiffany ignores it and happily takes Bruce’s money to begin making her fashion portfolio.

I think as well that this drastically changes the Batfam dynamics. Because Tiffany is not and will never be a bat.

I have an image of her halfway through her skin routine, looking for Tim (who stole her toner for little brother pest reasons) stumbling into the Batcace and going ‘so much makes sense’ and then asking if she wants to join.

“Ew,” Tiffany made a face. “No thanks.”

And Tiffany might have a more level head then her mom but she is 100% the ‘yoga and smoothie’ girl who loves her Prada and shoes. She is slurping on her greens and doing her nails while in the Batcave cause she won’t admit she’s lonely when they’re down there.

She makes Damian do face masks and ‘do yoga to sort out your chakra’ (Part of this is actually to fuck with him a little but also cause she does know he has issues even before the whole ‘assassin cult’ shit.) while dragging Tim into relaxation time or telling Dick to get his eldest daughter syndrome in check when he oversteps boundaries.

She ropes Cass into girls nights and is just a nice person.

When Bruce vanishes she reluctantly steps in to be the face of Wayne Enterprises while begging Tim for help cause she can get half the shit they’re saying babe.

I do think her advocation for mental health (even in her weird yoga, granola way) helps with Damian’s… Damianess while Bruce is missing. She sure as hell would not approve of him going out. 1) “Oh my god Richard, you dick, didn’t you bitch about you losing Robin? Bruce told me. Why ar you doing it to your brother hmm?” 2) “You know the kid was in a murder cult? How about we work on that before letting him stab people again.” And 3) “That is a whole ass 10 year old. I am putting my damn foot down.”

But anyway! There is an honest talk cause ‘talking stick time’ and Tim explains why he thinks Bruce is alive (Dick: Tim- Tiffany: Jason came back to life babes. Dick: But- Tiffany: Richard you dick-) and while they don’t believe him they agree him going to look doesn’t do harm. The whole Robin thing is shelved because Damian does need more therapy first.

(Alfred gets a chewing out because “I heard you’re a good man and maybe you are but I also heard fucked up shit. How about you try and not override our choices and give Damian that suit.” Look we love Alfred but he wasn’t the greatest in canon. And I think the suit thing he did was messed up. And Tiffany makes sure he knows it.)

Anyways-

Summary: Bruce Wayne has another bio kid. And this one won’t be a hero anytime soon thank you. She has fashion to consider.

Pairings: BatCst, Timber, Dick/Barbara (don’t know the ship name), Jason/Roy. Tiffany gets a boyfriend but I’m not sure if OC or I should go through the characters to pick one. Cass/Harper to.

[fandoms-in-law]

Seeing Through

Summary: Today, Steve is moving out and his parents choose now to have one of their random days home.

Author's note: Why does it feel like half these prompts are the same or similar? I need to reduce the amount of Steve songs prompts I put down.

My Idea for this Fic: 'I see Through You' - Taboo songfic - Steve moving out, saying fuck you to his parents.

/\/

They weren’t meant to come home. Steve had planned everything around his parents never being there.

Except there they were pulling into the driveway as the Party helped him load all his things onto Eddie’s van; and his father did not look happy.

“Quit groaning, Wheeler, or you’re unloading all the boxes alone later.” Eddie laughed as he and Mike carried Steve’s mattress out. His parents would assume that was theirs, that Steve was taking furniture they’d brought with him, but after injuries and fighting the Upside Down for so long, he’d replaced it, saved and spent his own money to have a better nights sleep.

“Steven!” His parents had gotten out of the car now, and the yell had anyone close enough hurrying out, concerned looks on their faces. “What is the meaning of this thievery?”

Steve glanced from them back to the house, and around at the people he called his family. “I’m moving out. Not going to leave anything I brought in your mausoleum.” He replied, measuring the space between them and how much slower than a demodog they moved.

After everything they’d fought, after finally moving out, there wasn’t much power his parent could swing over him. Also Hopper was probably just inside, ready to either come out or go to his room depending on how his parents reacted now. The likelihood they’d try to call, or at least threaten them with, the police was decent but Hopper would cut that off immediately if they saw him.

“That mattress-” His father began again, gesturing harshly before Steve cut him off.

“-I brought myself. Yours will be back on that bed frame by now.” That had been his request, whomever was bringing his mattress down put the old one on before bringing it out, and Eddie double checked it just twenty minutes ago.

A cold laugh came in response. “You expect me to believe that? With the crooks van you got to move your things in plain view.”

Steve bristled, glancing over to check Eddie wasn’t about to react for him. “That van and its owner have done more honest work in the last 6 months than you two have in your entire lives. They’re my family; you’re strangers who share my DNA”

“At least we aren’t common thieves.” Hello Mother, nice of you to join the conversation, Steve thought meeting her narrowed gaze.

“Of course you are.” He scoffed, “White collar crime, Nancy called it. Underpaying workers, dodging taxes. You’re crooks in pretty clothes but common enough. I’ve seen through the mask and I’m gone. No more son for you to forget about.”

“We don’t forget you and the destruction you’re doing to our name.”

“Stop twisting your reality to fit your views. This is me taking my life out of your hands in the sweetest goodbye. Actually you’re making it a bit bitter by your presence. How about you fuck off as you usually have done?” Steve had noticed his father focus more on the van again, and Mike stood near it while Eddie disappeared into the back of it. Baiting them would keep the focus where it needed to be.

Possibly not that much though, as his father took a step closer, “You aren’t leaving. What money do you have to-”

“Quite a bit actually. Or did you assume the jobs you forced him to get paid nothing?” Robin was at his side now, Nancy’s handbag under her arm.

“Odd accessory choice. She got one of them?” He quietly asked, knowing that Nance was still likely to have two guns in her bag.

He didn’t need her now before turning back to his parents. “Also Grandfather died. I know you were far too busy for the funeral but I inherited a far amount from him despite you never allowing him contact. Guess you never were god.”

His father tried to retort, but didn’t get a word out. His mother simply levelled a judgemental look at him, one he hoped nobody suggested was similar to looks he pulled, before heading into the house, “And that was your Grandfather’s failing, wasting funds on untrustworthy youth. I shall be ensuring none of our things are taken.”

Once his parents were inside, Robin and Eddie were leaning on each of his shoulder’s, nail bat left leaning against the doors to the truck with Mike. “Wait, did you really inherit from your Grandad?”

“Yeah, we wrote letters for a while. First did it after finding his address, half sobbing cause they’d abandoned me. So many tears cried over such worthless people.” Steve replied, “I found better easily.”

/\

“Steven.” His mother called, stopping him from climbing into the van, some letters in hand. “Why are all these utility companies saying they’ll be cut off from tomorrow?”

He blinked at her, continuing to sit down. “Because I saw through you. You tried turning them off ages ago just expecting me to pick the bills up, so I did. And now I’ve told them all I, the bill payer, will no longer be living here. They were very understanding.”

With the door shutting Eddie had them on their way to the apartment they’d gotten. It wouldn’t be perfect, but it would be far more of a home and a family than he was leaving.

[mylifeisfruk4ever]

@bruciemilf Batcat with baby Dick

“You're getting sloppy,” Selina greeted Bruce from the couch.

She liked to surprise the bat and sneak into his house. But it got too easy when the owner of the house left a back window open for her.

"Selina? What are you doing here?" the billionaire asked, having the audacity to look surprised. Here, a woman disappeared for a few months, and she was immediately forgotten. 

She stood up, walking over to him and putting her arms around his neck, "Well, it's Christmas Eve. I've come to unwrap my present."

Selina was the first to acknowledge that she and Bruce didn't have a typical relationship. Heck, even saying they were in a relationship was an exaggeration: they played chasing each other, between the roofs and at galas, both wearing different masks, pathological liars who had recognized each other.

They couldn't be together, not when they had such different morals and both were too stubborn to back down.

Such a pity. For those lips, she would have abandoned anything. It would have taken so little to be happy, but Selina supposed that some people weren't made for happiness.

Bruce gently pushed her away, "Selina, now is not the time."

"Are you afraid your butler won't approve?" she teased him, her arms still around his neck. 

Bruce pursed his lips, "It's not him I worry about."

"So how about we screw up this couch and..."

A small voice interrupted her, "Bruce? Who is with you?"

Selina's eyes widened. Standing by the door was a kid in Superman pajamas, messy black hair, and bleary blue eyes. He looks like a miniature Bruce. 

Bruce seemed to suddenly age ten years, "Selina, this is Dick. Dick, she's...my friend."

Friend seemed a lot better than she is a criminal I occasionally have sex with, but Selina was still too shocked that Bruce Wayne, emotionally stunted and with more trauma than scars, had a child and she didn't know it.

"Do you have a son?" finally the woman blurted out, genuinely surprised.

"Why are you so surprised? Haven't you read the newspapers?"

"I've been busy," she said evasively. Selina hadn't been in Gotham for months, keeping herself off the radar of people she'd pissed off. She had stayed out of trouble long enough not to make the bat suspicious. 

Who would have guessed that Selina was the least of his thoughts?

"Did the mother sue you for alimony? That's why he lives with you now?"

"No, his...his parents...the ropes snapped and they...they didn't make it."

Oh. Oh.

The boy had lost his parents, like Bruce. That's why the man welcomed him. Bruce had seen himself in the boy.

She pulled away from Bruce and smiled at Dick. First impressions mattered.

Dick looked at her warily, "She doesn't look like a friend to me."

"Why do you say that?"

"You look like a thief."

She laughed. Smart boy. Selina told him conspiratorially, "Don't worry. I only steal from those who deserve it."

The boy cocked his head, "Like Robin Hood?"

"Just like him."

"Wow!" he exclaimed, his wondering look making her laugh.

"Does Bruce deserve it?" Dick asked.

Selina hummed, "The only thing I want to steal from him...is his heart."

Behind her, she heard Bruce begin to breathe again. Seriously, who did he take her for? She wasn't that shameless.

"Doesn't it hurt?" Dick seemed genuinely concerned about his new guardian.

"Oh yeah, it hurts a lot. If you want it, go for it. Take a risk. Don't always play it safe or you'll die wondering."

Urgh, she was getting sentimental. It was the fault of the holidays. She used to get corny at Christmas.

Dick blinked, but before he asked any more potentially awkward questions - or something that would force either of them, god forbid, to talk about feelings - Bruce interjected, "Selina came to say hello. She's leaving now."

“She can't stay?” Dick almost begged.

"She seems nice."

"You have to go to sleep or Santa won't come," Bruce reminded him calmly, the softest voice she'd ever heard him use. Fatherhood suited him.

"But I want to see Santa Claus!"

"Well," Selina chimed in.

"We could wait for him together. What do you think?"

"Really?" 

"I could tell you a story while we wait."

Dick nodded vigorously and flung himself onto the couch. Bruce looked at her as if she'd helped Poison Ivy escape Arkham.

Selina sat down next to the overexcited boy, and started rubbing his head. She spoke softly, "You know, even at your age, I was waiting for Santa to come. My mom and I used to make him cookies, putting a lot of chocolate chips in them..."

Selina had never had the luxury of believing in Santa Claus, and sure as hell her mother had never baked cookies.

But the beauty of stories was that they didn't necessarily have to be true to be told. Within half an hour, Dick was asleep on her lap, and Bruce was staring at her in amazement.

"How did you do?"

"He was already tired," Selina explained to him.

"I just had to create the right atmosphere for him to fall asleep. Plus, kittens love it when I give them head scratches."

Bruce snorted, "He's not a kitten."

"You're right. He's a baby bat."

The man shook his head, "He's got too much color in him to be a bat. No, Dick is a bird. He's built to fly much higher than me."

The thief looked at him pityingly, "Oh, Bruce. Birds are fragile creatures."

"I know. Probably, I'll ruin him. But maybe…maybe I can learn to be more human, for Dick."

Selina teased him, "The big bat is getting softer."

"Maybe," was all Bruce answered. He took the sleeping boy by the arm, looking at Selina, "Dick comes first."

"Got it. The child comes first. What about me?"

"You..."

She laughed, "I was kidding, silly. I would never get between a single parent and his child."

"Selina...Dick comes first, but I wouldn't mind if you too...come to visit him more often."

"Are you asking me to be his cat mom?" Selina asked half jokingly and half seriously.

"If you want."

"Mhm...I will think about it."

It wasn't a no. For now, it would have been enough for both of them.

Selina gave him a quick kiss on the lips, and like a teenager on a first date she whispered in his ear, "If you want to come looking for me without the kid, you know where to find me."

Selina left much the same way she had arrived, in a whiff of subtle perfume and mischief, feeling her heart heavy and her mind full of what-ifs.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Eyes and Ears

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: An AU where Barbara finds Jason instead of Bruce.

Chapters: 20/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Barbara Gordon, Jim Gordon, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Sheila Haywood, Original Character(s)

Relationship(s): Jason Todd/Original Character(s), Past Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson

Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Older SIbling Barbara Gordon, Jason Todd-centric, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Jason Todd is NOT Robin, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd Has a Crush, Adopted Siblings

Chapter Twenty: Bash/Ball

"Let me get one more picture," Jim smiled. Jason's shoulders slumped, and he sighed. "It's your first dance. I just want to make sure I get enough pictures. Now, Barbara, come take a picture with your brother—."

"Pop," Jason complained. Jim's eyes widened as he motioned for them to stand close to each other.

Jason held his cape up to his face as he stood next to Barbara. He looked over at her and whispered, "I'm Batman," in a gruff voice. Barbara let out a laugh, and Jim snapped a picture of the two of them laughing.

"This is the last picture, I promise," Jim whispered as he put the camera on a timer and set it on the kitchen counter. "I tested it earlier. Stand right here," Jim replied as he took one photo with Barbara and Jason. After that, Jason said goodnight to Barbara and followed Jim down to the car.

Jim waited a while before pulling off, and he handed Jason his wallet. "Get a twenty out of my wall—."

"You've got a picture of me in here," Jason whispered.

"Well, I think it'd be awful hard to brag about you without a visual," Jim joked, "But really, you're my son. Why wouldn't I have your picture in my wallet? Before this year is over, I'll probably have to build a mantle or something for all the new pictures."

Jason smiled as Jim drove. "I love you, Pop," Jason whispered. Jim took a deep breath so that he wouldn't get all choked up, and he smiled.

"I love you too, Son," Jim whispered, "And I want you to have fun tonight. If you don't call me to pick you up early, I'll be back for you at midnight."

"Do these things really run until midnight?" Jason asked. Jim nodded. "Wow. And you're okay with me staying the whole time if I wanna?"

"Yeah, why not. You stay at school 'til ten p.m. most nights, what's two hours difference?" Jim smiled. Jason put on his mask in the mirror. "I know you didn't go last year, but I was wondering if you were gonna go trick-or-treating with your friends this year?"

"I can still do that?" Jason asked. Jim nodded. "Well, I'll probably just go with Barbara or Reese and A.J. if they wanna go."

"You're not gonna ask the girls?" Jim asked.

"No, they go out of town for Halloween," Jason replied.

"A.J. and Reese are those football boys, right?" Jim asked. Jason nodded and chuckled.

Jim dropped Jason off at the dance and waved goodbye, and Jason entered the ballroom. He walked around the ballroom looking for his friends, and he was approached by a girl who told him he couldn't reveal his identity as part of the ball's theme. Jason nodded and adjusted his posture. Jason figured that if he was going to hide his identity, he might as well play a character. Jason got something to drink and stood with his back against the wall, holding his cup away from him and watching the other kids dance with his nose in the air. Jason committed to playing his own opposite for the night. He walked around the ballroom with his nose in the air. It wasn't until a boy much taller than him brushed his hand and he froze. Jason grabbed his hand, and they both stood there frozen in a crowd of people. The taller boy leaned down to whisper in Jason's ear. "May I have this dance?" he asked. Jason nodded.

"Perhaps," Jason replied as the boy led Jason in one slow dance before disappearing into the crowd. It wasn't until Jason snapped out of the shock of what just happened that he realized who he'd danced with. Jason didn't chase him. Instead, he walked out to the balcony and started pacing back and forth in a panic. A teacher dressed as a plague doctor came out and nudged him back inside, but Jason didn't recognize the voice. He obeyed despite his instincts to ask who the man was. He went back inside and decided to search for his friend.

Not too long after, he heard a loud pop and a hissing noise, and the last thing he remembered was the burning sensation in his eyes. He woke up in the emergency room feeling sick to his stomach. His hands shook violently as the lights burned his eyes. He couldn't see clearly. His throat was sore from whatever chemical he must've inhaled, barely managing to mutter a hoarse warning that he was going to be sick. He vomited into a sick bag and lay back. A hand touched his forehead and made sure the oxygen tubes were in his nose. "I've got you, son," Jim whispered, "Do you remember anything?"

Jason shook his head. His vision was still blurred from the chemicals, and he couldn't see who else was in the room with him. "Jason, literally anything. Try to think," Jim urged him.

"Plague doctor took me back inside," Jason mumbled. His head ached, and he felt pins and needles all over his body as if he couldn't come down from panic. He reached to touch his eyes, and Jim grabbed them. "I wanna go home."

"Jason, we don't know what you were hit with. Every emergency room in Gotham is packed with kids from your school, and it sounds like you're all going to be held overnight for observation," Barbara explained.

Jason closed his eyes and tried to calm down. Jim sighed. "We're not leaving your side, I promise," Jim reassured. Jason took a shaky breath. Barbara reached over and squeezed his hand. "We're thinking it's some sort of fear toxin, but it's not like anything we've ever seen..."

"Who called 9-1-1?" Jason asked.

"You called me," Jim whispered, "You don't remember calling me at all?" Jason shook his head and opened his eyes once more. The room was a little clearer to him, and he could see their faces.

Barbara tried to mask her anger, but Jason could see it written all over her face. She was furious. He couldn't tell if she was mad at him or at the situation, but he felt like he'd failed her. Jim seemed more concerned than anything. "I don't remember anything... I'm sorry," Jason whispered. Barbara stormed out of the room without so much as a word. Jason looked over at Jim.

"She's not mad at you. She just wants to know how this happened," Jim comforted Jason. Jim sat down by Jason's bedside. "It'll probably be out of your system by morning. I know you're probably still feeling a little anxious." Jason nodded and took another deep breath. "You didn't say much on the phone. You just told me there was gas at the school and that everyone was trapped."

[dearabby1990]

Chapter 23: Riding in style

You & Robin head to your bathroom to have one more once over checking your hair & makeup when she gives you a questioning look “What… robs why you looking at me like that?” She’s quiet for a minute “hold on I want you to put something in your purse just in case” she goes into your bedroom & comes back with a square foil wrapper “here I don’t want you to feel pressured to do anything tonight if you do I’ll kick his ass but if you’re planning on.. ya know?… I want you to be prepared we don’t need to have a group freak attack & a mini munson running around one is enough for the time being” she laughs putting it into your bag. You hear the guys talking in the other room. “Ladies our rides gonna be here any minute!” Eddie calling for you both. Heading to the guys & towards the door you’re all not too sure what to expect it’s Eddie for all you know it could be a hearse all at the curb nervous, excited & curious to what’s to come you see Eddie split into a shit eating grin you turn to see what he’s looking at a 1955 baby blue Chevy bel air with white wall tires pulls up to your house you’re all in awe Steve turns to Eddie “sweet nice one munson” Eddie nods in agreement “yeah Wayne had a favor from a buddy at the plant who’s son owns a car rental spot outside of town so for tonight she’s ours” he smiles as Aaron approaches handing Eddie the keys “take care of my baby munson one scratch one dent & I’ll shave your head i swear” Eddie chuckles “hey man no need to threaten my mane I’ll take good care of her like I do with this precious thing” as he pulls you into his side smiling Aaron smiles at you all “have a fun guys”. Eddie opens your door as Steve opens robins you all buckle up as Eddie starts the engine “hell yeah everyone ready?!” You take his spare hand in yours “ready” you wink at him & off you go. On the way over you all share a few joints & a bunch of laughs as you all get ready to pull up into Hawkins High parking lot & get out you & Eddie’s masks as robin & Steve put on theirs. Eddie kills the engine & turns to you shooting a wink grabbing your hand giving it the most tender kiss. The two gentlemen exiting the car to open the doors for you ladies Eddie & you intertwine your fingers as Steve and robin link their arms you all head your way towards the gym smiling & ready to enjoy the night with each other.

[mediocres-writing-blog]

MORTAL KOMBAT LEGENDS: BLOOD BOUND

Chapter 4: The Last Draw

In the morning, Nico wakes up, yawning and stretching. He gets down and enters the room, finding Muchacha already awake. He is surprised, as he expected her to sleep in, as she didn't seem to have any interest in his appearance.

ROBIN: You're already awake? Figured you people slept longer.

MUCHACHA: Don't assume much, Bird boy. We still have work to do. So get ready, and let's move. The sooner we finish this, the sooner we can part ways.

ROBIN: Whatever you say, miss General. You're the boss. Or, you know, at least you think you are. After all, you don't have a dad to tell you what to do.

Amara, clenching her fist and grinning her teeth, slowly turns to the caped crusader.

MUCHACHA: We can have this conversation on the road, while we leave this goddamned place.

ROBIN: Whatever you say, Miss. It's not like you don't have anything smarter to say anyways.

The general takes a deep breath, trying not to give him a right hook.

MUCHACHA: Keep it together... He's just trying to rile you up. Don't give him what he wants.

Nico, satisfied with her reaction, chuckles and walks outside, leaving Amara alone. The two travel throughout the day, not stopping until the sun starts to set. Steering their steeds gently and fairly close to a cliff that stands above the Sea of Souls, Amara and Robin take a break. Muchacha, staring at the ocean and thinking about the task at hand, feels a chill going down her spine. She is shaken, and turns around, seeing Nico's mask looking right into her eyes. Robin turns to the pouch on his Outworld horsey, taking out a cookie.

ROBIN: I'm kind of hungry. Wanna have half of my almond cookie?

MUCHACHA: What trickery is this? You might as well have poisoned it, for all I know. I'm not eating it.

ROBIN: It's not poisoned. I swear on my heart. Just try it, you won't regret it.

MUCHACHA: What's the catch? The goon-ery? the bamboozle?

ROBIN: Do you want the cookie or not? 

Amara hesitates, then sighs and takes a bite of the cookie.

MUCHACHA: Wow. This is quite... this is quite nice. Thank you, Robin.

Robin smiles, and sits criss-cross by the general, pushing up his mask as he munches on his part of the cookie. Then he spoke, still chewing on the cookie.

ROBIN: No, thank YOU, for being an amazing companion. Seriously, it's been so long since I've had a good partner for an assignment. Even if the assignment is kinda shit, I'd rather have you over most other people I worked with, like Kung Jin.

MUCHACHA: Kung Jin? That twerp who beat general Kotal in a one on one? I see why you don't enjoy working with him.

ROBIN: Why you sayin' that? You like Kotal or or sum'?

MUCHACHA: What? Of course not. I respect his abilities and his role as a leader, but he's an arrogant son of a bitch. I wouldn't mind beating him, just to teach him a lesson.

She completely lied, while Robin raised a brow to her without saying anything.

MUCHACHA: SHUTUP!

ROBIN: Alright alright, don't get your fish lips in a twist, I was just playing with you. You are a bit arrogant, though, so I wouldn't blame him for thinking the same.

Amara rolls her eyes and throws a rock at him, which makes him want to give her an uppercut, but then he looks up at his mask, taking it off and looking at it.

MUCHACHA: aaaw, Are you still upset about your mask?

ROBIN: Firstly: How dare you. Secondly: Of course I'm upset. But also amazed at how you broke it in such a way that it missed my eye. Like, completely. It hit anything but my eye.

MUCHACHA: Well, I did intend to actually blind you, but I'm glad I didn't. I can't have you losing sight of me, after all.

ROBIN: Huh. I didn't know you liked my company.

MUCHACHA: Who said that, you birdbrain? You're still as annoying as the first time we met, and you're getting on my nerves.

Robin, putting his mask down, goes up and looks at her dead in the eyes.

ROBIN: You learned that from Daddy Shao, too?

Muchacha, who has had enough, grabs him by the collar of his feathered cape, and pushes him to a nearby wall, her tone drastically changing.

MUCHACHA: Listen here, you pipsqueak, and you listen well. I don't want to be a rutheless mass-murderer like he was. I want to be a good person, and a good general. But if you don't stop getting on my nerves, I'll kill you, and I'll hang your corpse from a tree. Understood?

Robin, now incredibly terrified, tries to simmer down the tension.

ROBIN: L-Listen, dude, you don't gotta be like this! I'm sorry for pushing your buttons and crap, let's just sit down, and calm the fuck dow-

Muchacha, who has sighed deeply, releases her grip and takes a step back. Robin falls on the floor, hyperventilating. Suddenly, lighting flashes across the sky, and a clap of thunder shortly follows. Amara looks up and notices the change in weather, and turns back to Robin, extending her hand.

MUCHACHA: Let's set camp, we'll be continuing tomorrow.

Robin, getting back up on his own and jumping on his steed and nods. He then gets an idea.

ROBIN: I might have an idea.

Amara, riding alongside him.

MUCHACHA: Is it clever?

ROBIN: Remember that old cave we passed earlier?

MUCHACHA: Yeah? what of it?

ROBIN: Well, there's no better place to spend the night than in a nice and dry cave.

MUCHACHA: You do realize caves usually have beasts, right?

ROBIN: Do you have any better idea?

Amara, thinking for a second, realizes that there's no other shelter for miles, and gives in.

MUCHACHA: Fine. Lead the way, Red Robin.

They ride towards the cave and see its quite dark.

MUCHACHA: You don't happen to have a torch on you, would you?

ROBIN: Better.

the caped crusader then snaps his fingers a couple of times, lighting up a decent sized green flame.

MUCHACHA: How did you learn that?

ROBIN: I'll get into it later. Now, follow my lead.

he says, guiding his horse inside.

Amara, who is amazed, shakes her head and follows.

MUCHACHA: Right, yeah, I guess we have no choice.

The general and the masked man venture deeper into the cavern, with the masked man leading the way, and the general following closely behind. The deeper they go, the more they realize this isn't a cave, its an abandoned mine, one from the days of the rule of Shao Kahn. 

ROBIN: I say we wandered long enough. Lets stop here.

Muchacha, dismounting her horse, looks around.

MUCHACHA: This does look like a good place to stop.

ROBIN: Cool. I'll get the fire started, you take care of the horses.

Robin, while looking around for things to burn, lights up some conveniently placed torch that starts a chain reaction and illuminates the entire mine that spreads on through miles.

ROBIN: Wow, this place is big. What do you think were they mining here?

MUCHACHA: Most likely gold. My father used mines similar to these to amass wealth. Though these ones have been abandoned for some time, and the gold has most likely been depleted.

ROBIN: Hmm... 

Nico, casually approaches to some inanimate skeletons

ROBIN: Excuse me, can one of you dead, decayed bodies point us in the direction of the nearest bonfire? Or, you know, any sort of resting area at all. We're getting pretty tired and bored. So, do you guys have anything cool here or-?

The masked man gets interrupted when a loud howl was heard from the depths of the mines.

ROBIN: Something tells me we aren’t alone.

[currentfandomkick]

Edit: HEY tumblr ate half the post. Just noticed so. Here’s the rest.

—

“Nah. She’s one of my best friends back home and gets both sides of the mask. Like Batgirl and Robin are better off as friends than dating—though Cass and Babs have granted me honorary Batgirl Rights a while back. We do spa days and movies nights.”

“And we’re not invited because???”

“Not a batgirl or honorary; as declared by Oracle.”

“And that matters as…” Greta baited while Cissie shook her head.

Tim paused his calculations to turn to his friend. “First Batgirl gets to decide, duh.”

The group erupted at that.

Tim smiled. Just a bit. Baby steps with reveal and all. Hopefully the Ivy alliance overshadowed the ‘ability to hear plant speak and learning to use it.’

He loves them, but its just. A lot of anyone wants to help with his abilities and how to compensate. Telling Virgil most of it had been a pain, and easy enough as he was a teammate but not. Not Just Us, not one of his chosen family members he'd switch sides for.

He still can’t quite articulate how it makes a difference, just, that it does. The degree of separation and long term personal investment and stakes are just. Lower with Virgil than most Titans, let alone Tim's team.

Virgil helps with exposure therapy, sure, and Tim listens to him work through what to do with his family. He’s the emotional support Robin, but this time its mutual.

Its also fun to see how his pitch can affect Static’s control and vice versa. Tim is working on more compensation tactics for long range combat not relying on his weapons.  And Virgil smiles more and ruffles his hair on occasion.

The two did agree that given Dick’s own habit of… hallucinating Jason, it was better to not tell Dick about Jazz and the cause of his narcoleptic tendencies with his insomnia is a red head dream-walker who was his older sister in a prior incarnation.

Too much of a chance Dick would try to steal his sister for his ginger allies and ex’s club, they agreed.

—

Dana raised an eyebrow as a teen that was not her step son came in through the window.

The boy was unfazed by her being there.

“Is Tim here? It took ages to track him down,” the teen complained.

Dana hummed, wondering how to answer the red head around Tim’s age in front of her.

“Why would I tell you?”

“Oh, right. Tim is my Robin." the boy offer his hand. "Anarky. Or Lonnie. I bet you heard a lot about me!”

Dana came to understand Bruce’s adoption habit at the way Lonnie had a clear mask of false bravado.

“Not much, he keeps what happens in his Mask to himself and tells us small anecdotes here and there. He did mention you a few times though.”

She idly wondered how her husband would handle her potentially adopting a former rogue to their semi-retired vigilante son.

“Cool, cool… so he’s not here now?”

“I’ll see when he’s on his way and let him know you’re here.”

“Okay, okay… can I get your WiFi while I wait orrr….”

Dana passed him the sticky-note with the information.

Not even five minutes later Tim rushed in and Lonnie perked up.

“Found you! Now you have to help me!”

“That is not how it—“

Dick Grayson barged in next, looking at her son and potential second son with a wide grin.

“You got you’d. By a rouge.”

Lonnie stuck his tongue out at Dick.

Tim looked up at the ceiling, clearly calling for powers that abandoned Gotham long ago.

Dana did laugh when Lonnie babbled about a plan to take out another corporation dumping into the harbor. Why he hadn't handed that off to Ivy, she didn't know.

She hummed, grabbing a snack for herself and putting on Star Trek. If the boys present were going to talk about things outside of her jurisdiction, that was a problem for them.

Tim shushing them as she picked which iteration, made her smile.

“Uh, is it okay to help with this one?”

“Online or in person?”

“Online! Just the hacking part! No in person vigilantism like we agreed,” Tim threw his hands up in his defense.

Dana texted her husband code yellow-green.

He agreed to be home to discuss the issue of how involved Tim would be with Lonnie’s scheme in an hour. They did know this could happen, given the early signs of a new alias' construction.

Dick had the courtesy to buy them all takeout using one of Bruce’s cards, while laughing at Tim.

It was good to see him being less tense, more relaxed now that things were in the open. And if she finds Lonnie’s situation lacking, they do have a spare guest room. Lonnie would just be required to stick to this ‘hacktivist’ thing rather than bombing buildings once he moved in until after college or trade school.

Doxxing would work just fine, in her opinion. So would reporting their tax fraud to the IRS if what she’s seen Tim try to do to a number of people, given he can’t fight them as Robin or another alias again quite yet in Gotham.

—

Tim feels like he should have seen Bernard and Darla walking in on him and Lonnie mid-hacker fight against Black Mask as a bad thing.

Instead Bernard asked if Tim wanted any more info and Darla just hummed at him until he and Lonnie got what they wanted.

Irrefutable proof that Black Mask is Roman.

Once they got out, Tim kept grinning and Lonnie was cackling beside him.

Tim half wished he could tell Stephanie about it right then and there, but she’s patrolling right now.

He’s also tempted to find the new player in Crime Alley and see what the newbie does with this information. So far his moves have fascinated Tim, and amused his father.

Bernard toyed with Tim’s additional “protected by” pins. Harley and Ivy merged territories. So new pin for both of them. Being Harley’s “duck boy” was more than what he expected. But her actively helping him find a discreet therapist for former vigilantes in Gotham is nice. Stephanie decided to throw her own pin at him a while back, and Oracle nearly branded his stuff with her call sign.

Anarky still has Two Face’s pin, and Bernard is running around with a Penguin one recently. Darla was pin-less, but her necklace made it clear which crime family she was from.

“So. Whose life are you ruining?”

“Exposing Black Mask,” Lonnie damn near crowed. “Now it’s how to release it, and when.”

“Hm, gala party, or when he’s on TV?” Tim mused. The goal is the reveal being done when he can’t run away; pinning him physically until less corrupt authority figures arise… and preventing their intervention.

“Isn’t he visiting Metropolis for Lex’s thing,” Lonnie asked while scrolling through Roman’s calendar events.

Tim hummed. “If we drop this as a tip to Superman…”

“You mean you,” Lonnie clarified. “I’m still on probation. Legally speaking.”

Tim shook his head. “Fine, I’ll go and pass it on to Superman through his inbox and spam him until Roman’s arrest.”

“Excellent!”

“Do we even exist when you two have a project?” Darla asked.

“There are voices, but not helpful ones to the cause,” Lonnie answered.

“I’d be more offended,” Darla glanced at the multitude of computers between them. “But I don’t think I can be here.”

Bernard hummed in agreement, wrapped around a content Tim, high off a case’s major breakthrough.

“So, how big will the shake up in Gotham : underground be?” Bernard asked, eyeing Darla.

“Pretty monumental given Roman’s hands in everything. Power vacuum will suck. Think the Newbie can use it? Guy has been listening to the working girls before profit,” Lonnie muttered. "and good with environmental protections."

“That would mean poking Bat’s latest fixation…" Tim leaned into Bernard's embrace like a cat into a sunbeam. "And probably able to absorb a decent chunk of the areas near the Alley, and hopefully take out more of Mask’s lieutenants. If we can get Oracle in on this, maybe save more victims too.”

Lonnie whooped.

Bernard got that mad look in his eye that reminded Tim his friend joined multiple pain-cults on his own out of boredom.

Darla leaned over to grab at Tim too. “Save the world is over, now it’s mall time. Your mini can come with.”

Lonnie doubled over at that. “Thanks but no. Enjoy your date!”

“We will!” Bernard answered as he and Darla dragged Tim away.

Jack yelled to “wear protection!” While Tim protested his friends calling their hangouts dates lately. Only when it was the three of them however.

He could feel Jazz laughing at him and something about history repeating. Still no idea which history she means, or why it’s so funny.

Bernard and Darla did continue to refer to Kon as his ‘bi-awakening’ and stated they can wait for him to get over the "situation-ship of his life," but are retaining joint-custody of him.

Tim is fairly certain they’re just being supportive, and joking about the legalization of polycules in Gotham… right?

The Aquista family member tailing them did tell Tim not to “break her heart” only for Darla to shoo them off as “oh, he’s processing this is a thing still.”

Bernard did laugh as Tim blinked owlishly at the pair and the guy giving him a… platonic shovel talk? Darla hummed, stating regardless of if the three date romantically or platonically, Tim is Theirs Now, no returns.

Tim did his best not smile at that, and failed miserably as Bernard agreed.

Bernard grinned and dragged him into the middle of one of the growing group hugs the three end up in.

Harley perking up mid-robbery when she spotted Tim passing by and teasing him about his dates with Darla and Bernard, the pair proudly nabbing his hands as “some of us aren’t scared to take them” did confuse him further.

He came home to the Poly Pride flag slapped onto one of his cactus pots. At least it was painted?

Jack reminded Tim about maintaining his group and individual relationships with Darla and Bernard.

—-

Tim showed jack his latest design for a new vigilante ID—the one he wanted to transition into.

Phantom Shriek.

He still had leaps and bounds to go on training with Static. Dick caught them in an exposure therapy session and took to giving Tim stickers.

He later caught Tim and Ivy practicing his scream and plant speak.

Nightwing did not stop hugging him, and said something about his brothers all being alive and different but its okay and kept babbling.

Ivy knocked him out for Tim, and he called Wally to pick up his best friend.

Ivy said she already figured him out a few weeks after their lessons began, and had known about Dick for almost a decade.

Tim did his best not to laugh hysterically. He failed and screamed for a bit.

She helped him minimize the damage.

Wally came in on that and agreed to give Tim “bat berth”.

It reminded him weirdly of Amorpho and his deal back in Amity. Ancients, he missed it like a phantom limb some days.

Finding out that the more danger he’s in, the more abilities he has, had been a Time to work out with data sorting.

Harley helped with triple checking his numbers. And consoled him mid-break down.

—

Tim gave the info to Clark Kent while visiting Metropolis with Dick.

Clark gave him a look before asking Tim if he and Conner had a fight.

When Tim answered Kon had been avoiding him and he didn’t know why, but he was giving his clone boy the space he made clear he wanted.

Clark froze.

Dick adding Tim had a girlfriend and boyfriend too now, so Kon must be jealous of Tim for bagging two partners and showed off pictures Dick got of their “dates.”

Clark must have had some realization as Tim pointed out that “it’s just Bernard being Bernard and Darla going along with it. They’d have to ask me out first, and Bernard is into Darla. And Darla is my friend, not girlfriend, or, the kind you and Kori are Dick.”

“Uh huh. Keep telling yourself that Timmy,” Dick answered while Clark kept an eye on Tim as he wandered off to give Lois more scoops about corrupt multi-billion dollar companies and debate which tactics to destroy them systematically before the rats can jump ship.

—

Luthor invited Tim to the very event that Roman would be exposed at.

Lois grinned at him when she saw him with his Dad vibrating in place while going over a particular artifact's importance to showing signs of civilization, while Dana chimed in with the healed broken bones as better proof.

Tim did side with Dana, but argued settled civilization’s best sign was yeast-y pottery for bread and beer.

Lex brought out Kon during the discussion. Kon who froze when he saw Tim.

Tim waved awkwardly, message well received Kon didn't want to see him, before Cassie ran over with Cissie and the two began interrogating Dana and Tim and Jack in turn.

Kon didn’t approach him the whole time. Which.

He’s had less painful vivisections, if he's any bit honest with himself. The bear trap was easier to deal with.

He doesn’t know why that rejection hurt as much as it did.

Cassie ran off to check up on Kon while Cissie grumbled about cowardice and took to bugging his dad over various ‘hunting projectiles’ used in various areas and their methods. It was as good a distraction as any, his dad's voice soothing something that smarted something awful.

Tim kept his growing glee off his face as the pings went off and the cops poured in. Black Mask was exposed as Roman. In Metropolis. After his local allies had been picked off earlier that week, one by one.

And his arrest and trial are outside of his political connections and strongholds, while Lex is in one of his ‘PR parent’ moods.

The man is cooked.

Cissie looked at Tim, sensing him shedding his attempt to look sane. He put that mask back up quickly.

Tim feigned innocence while Dick barged over to “check” on Tim and Cissie over the shock.

When things settled down, Kon and Cassie returned with Kon freezing at the sight of Tim, who decided to see if the poor houseplant wanted a larger pot. At least the plant would talk to him, and he had chosen to be out as a meta with his parents' help over the last few months.

As Tim Drake, he was going to admit to being capable of speaking ‘plant’ and hearing them since the JJ incident. Which is public knowledge, and trauma induced meta gene activation is well known.

Cassie flipped Kon off and dragged him over the rest of the way, while Kon kept his eyes on Tim’s ‘barely noticeable now’ scars around his mouth. Like those were all that mattered and all Tim was now.

Like the portal accident with Sam and Tucker checking his pulse daily all over again.

“Tim, uh, how you holding up?” Kon tried, obviously not wanting to be around a tainted Tim.

“Okay.” He wouldn't force Kon to talk to him when he clearly doesn’t want to be around him. “I think we’re leaving soon, I should do my goodbyes. Good to see you.”

Cissie shot Tim a look as he escaped.

Kon grabbed his arm. Too tight but Tim is a fast healer. “So. Virgil?”

Tim blinked slowly. that was what Kon wanted to talk about after limitless radio silence? His frustration seeped into his tone. “Helps me with the triggers. And I listen to his.”

Kon almost let go at that. “Oh, oh,” he spoke too softly.

Tim tried to pull back. Kon let him.

“Anyways yeah,” Tim put more distance between them.

“Say hi to your dates for me Timmy!” Cassie yelled as he left and waved her off.

Tim missed the panic in Kon’s face, already turned away.

The rest of the gala did not. Gossip was brewing.

“I’ll send them your love Cassie!” Dana yelled back with too much teeth.

Jack looked between his son, Kon and Dana’s too-knowing look he’d come to trust when it came to emotions.

“How is my son’s life a soap opera. How," he muttered as he herded Tim and Dana to the car.

—

Okay! Let me know if i forgot tags and if you want another part as this is a lot of fun to write.

Pt2 reincarnated Tim gets the Wail aka Phantom Shrike

Part one here

Virgil let Tim in, leaning against the wall as Tim looked about his room, clearly searching for where to start as his head looked everywhere, largely at the walls and floor, but not directly at Virgil.

“So," Tim began as he wrung with his hands awkwardly. "I’m going to guess you noticed the early reflexes thing and flinching when you use your powers or Nightwing lights up his escrima sticks?”

Vigil raised an eyebrow at him. “Don’t need to be a detective to see that a mile away.”

Tim took a seat at last, settling the urge to scream as the beanbag chair engulfed him. “So, Dick told you all about the uh, JJ incident, or do i get to explain that?”

Virgil moved back to his desk, moving his project to the side. “Just that it was bad.”

“It was.” Bad enough to revive a former lifetime and activate his meta gene. “Kind of shot him, but not me? He’s still in a coma from it.”

Tim waited for Virgil’s reaction. Virgil merely turned to face Tim again, sitting backwards in his swivel chair with an unusually neutral expression.

“I, uh, always had a thing with electricity before that.”

Tim fiddled with his hands again. Counting taps in twos and threes. Dad mentioned it after his last anger management session as a grounding technique. Tim found it… useful. For other things. Largely subduing shrieks, and kicking his trauma triggers in the nuts—when he was certain it was rude to break out tetris anyways.

“Mom called it ‘soul memory hugs’, and not to look into it when I was a kid.” Tim continued, tapping out one of his favorite songs in a modified version of morse code.

He remembers going to Janet in the middle of the night, asking where the nice red head girl went, and why she was crying when he got shocked in his sleep and everything went green. Janet just soothed his concerns and reminded him that the Talons don't go for society kids, but maybe the little girl lost someone and Tim reminded her of him. That he was not responsible for the girl and to let her come to him on her own terms, but to keep a few back ups prepared "just in case" and had him sleep with salt in hand and an iron bracelet.

“Didn’t stop the flashes of," he still couldn't adequately describe the flickers of his pre-Tim life. Of a realm made of ectoplasm the way theirs was made of carbon. The sentient food, watching people walk off injuries that should have crippled them, or the Fenton Driving Watch for the weather. Tucker's laugh and his varied PDAs, or Sam's smile promising someone pain. Dani's joy when she stabilized and befriended Val. Val's everything. "Of something,” he finished lamely.

It'd all been so difficult to pin down back then, as it was too vague without the rest of his memories giving context. A hand holding his. Someone protecting him, other times being punched in the arm or patted on his shoulder almost in condolence of some sort.

“Usually just a warm feeling that uh, stuck if it was static, no pun intended!”

Virgil shook his head with a smile, leaning into the cushion of the chair. “Sure thing Rob, keep going.”

“But when I started going out as Robin," it began a bit before, when he was gathering more evidence of Bruce as Batman to validate his threat of exposing Bruce's secret identity if that was the only way to the man to stop and get help. The sense of dejavu and the stray thought of 'Wes is rolling in his grave' that he never could explain away…

"As Robin," Tim repeated after a beat of silence. "and got hit anytime? It, it changed." his taps stopped being to any song at all. Mouth pulled to one flat, Tim continued. "Flickers of something," he leaned his head to one side, before moving it to the other as he spoke. "Became more and bits of something else.”

Virgil leaned back minutely, face starting to tinge with pinches of worry. “Do any of the Bats know about that?”

Tim shook his head. “B wasn’t, uh,” Tim fiddled with his hands more, not taps or morse code. More hand wringing and flexing phalanges. “In any state to even recognize I wasn’t Robin the Second when I started,” he confessed.

Virgil seemed frozen, like he was mentally recoiling as he moved from his chair to perch on his bed to see Tim and be closer to him for some reason. And now far more attentive than the earlier lull.

Tim shrugged off his concern, as it wasn't like anybody was unaware of how badly Bruce took losing Jason, or how badly Batman took flying solo. People are excellent at ignoring inconveniences to them. and a compromised bad was inconvenient to the GEL.

“No one noticed in the field as Robin was still who he called. My job was to deescalate him, not the other way around.”

Virgil pinched his brow. “So your mentor was violent, and you mentored him rather than mentoring you.”

“Yeah, for most of the three years I pieced him back together. He had me go through the ringer and work under a lot of mentors for combat. Some villains too.”

Tim briefly wondered if Lady Shiva’s offer would extend to helping him take out Joker… And if he could live with himself if he did. Joker killed Jason and was a contributing reason to his parents' hesitation to letting him take up a mantel again in Gotham.

Tim ran a hand through his hair, trying to push that thought aside and the relief of it out of his mind. “Didn’t really tell B things until it was mandatory or necessary. And I wasn’t Robin like Dick and Jay were. I wasn’t and won’t be his son. Just the kid pulling his ass out of his own head and enforcing his old code on his ass. With whatever weapon I need to keep others safe.”

“Hey, Rob?" Virgil interrupted. "You do realize what that sounds like out loud, right?” Virgil's form radiated tension.

Tim could only give a strained smile in return. “Dad and Step Mom lectured me on it and not sacrificing myself for someone that can’t even see me, not the people they wish I was.”

Virgil shook his head as he leaned back. “No wonder you’re off patrol in Gotham.”

Tim let out a long exhale through his nose. “Yeah. Dad sort of wasn’t around until after Mom died, and uh, fixed his priorities.”

“Deathlike do it,” Virgil muttered to himself bitterly.

Tim tactfully ignored that as he knew it was something for Virgil to reveal to his family (not being dead) not Tim’s brand of meddling.

“So uh, Dad always knew about the memory hugs, and more recently the uh, flickers? I've been calling the longer and more detailed memory hugs that. A lot of people get flickers of previous lives and shit, so no need to tell Bats when he frankly couldn’t tell ass, elbow and knees apart.”

Virgil whistled long and low. “Cool, cool… so what does that have to do with the Joker Incident and the extra sensory shit you’ve clearly got going on.”

Tim took a deep breath. “Joker uh, used electric shock repeatedly as a way to torture me. Tried to re-write my memories to be his kid, not B's."

Virgil froze.

“Which is ridiculous. If anything, B was my kid." Tim curled his toes as the memories tried to creep back in. He wished that etiquette allowed him to play tetris right now—to distract him from the phantom sensations.

"Same thing happened in the last life and it," he struggled how to articulate the change of impressions and images to the meshing of time and emotional intermingling. "It stopped being flickers."

He bite his inner cheek and could feel the barely noticeable mouth scars pinking as he bit down. All while Virgil's eyes watched his every move. "More, more like flashbacks, I guess. A lot of time being tied down with an asshole demanding I kill my dad and join him as his evil apprentice. Sometimes it was bleeding memories and superimposed images of people I knew then onto people I know now. And it uh, kicked my meta-gene into activating.”

Virgil finally moved, visibly tabling most of what he said. The tension in his own shoulders dropped when he realized he wouldn't have to go back to that horrid laughing place in his mind . “What kinds of activating, and how’d they emerge?”

“A few my step mom clocked—I could hear better and had a larger pitch range that my voice cracking couldn’t hide. Mostly on their own but the uh, scream one is uh, a work in progress on emerging still.”

“So you can hear people coming from further away?” Virgil surmised.

“Not exactly. Its uh, complicated<" Tim let his shoulders and hands do the talking again. "A local eco-terrorist and meta is helping me with where it overlaps on her turf. Apparently plants can hear a lot more than we thought and have opinions on my singing skills. Mainly, that they suck.”

Virgil took a deep breath and looked up. Tim waited for him to give the okay to keep going.

Virgil waved him on once he was done pleading to the ceiling for something to make this more bearable.

“So uh, Ivy is teaching me how to understand plant languages, in exchange for beach cleanups and something I already planned to and had in the works.”

“A rogue is teaching you about your powers, and the adult who you were monitoring in hindsight has no clue.” Virgil rubbed his face before looking up. “And Dick, he looped in?”

“Not yet, I uh, want to know more before becoming a pet project for the extended Bats, you know?”

Virgil conceded that much.

“And its only one aspect the rogue knows! She helps a lot of metas hide their abilities and teaches them how to cope and work with it on their terms. B knows about her doing that and doesn’t interfere with that part of her work. Everyone knows about her doing it.”

“But not regarding you?”

“Its," Tim scrambled to find the right word. "Its complicated.”

“A lot of things with Bats are.”

“Look," Tim held his hands up in surrender. "My dad will go down for attempted murder, if not murder one, if B is around me anymore. I don’t know what they said, but Dad found out about Robin a few weeks after I escaped the JJ incident…”

Virgil paused, face loosening as something clicked. Shoulders slack, he muttered, “you almost died, didn’t you?”

Tim bit his inner cheeks and scars, tapping a littler harder than before. “Legally dead a few times during it, and uh, got to relive the times I died in my last life.”

“How Bad?”

Tim could feel Maddie cutting into him, could see her comparing his insides to Ember’s.

“Mad scientist parents found out I stopped being fully human. It, it was, it was bad.”

“Shit.”

Tim swallowed dryly. “Yeah. Uh, I was hoping, no pressure or obligation, if you’d be okay helping with exposure therapy with electricity. Yours doesn’t sound the same as, as,” Tim felt that urge to scream grow in his throat. He clamped his hands over his mouth and used that trick from Fear Toxin.

“Tim?!”Virgil stood up.

5 things he could touch. His mouth, shoes, ground under his feet, the chair he was sitting on, his clothes.

4 things he can see. Virgil, door, poster, desk.

3 things he can hear. His breathing (too quick), Virgil’s static field, hum from the lights.

2 things he can smell. Stress and BO.

1 thing he can taste. His teeth.

Tim dropped his hands as his throat loosened to safe speaking levels as he repeated the steps. “Sorry, just uh, some stress requires screaming now and it, its not safe to be in the blast radius.” Tim ran a hand over his face. “Learning pitch control still and the screams tend to uh, level things. Missions are fine, the, the flashbacks…”

Virgil nodded slowly. “Not far off from Canary then. Talking about JJ triggers it?”

Tim nodded with a hard swallow. “Talking about the, the memories from the life where my parents uh, killed me and the dying by them after half dying from fixing an invention of theirs and having multi-dimensional portal kill and revive me simultaneously multiple times does it too.”

Static opened and shut his mouth. “Flashbacks frequent?”

“Yeah, kinda. Telling my body we’re not being strapped down and vivisected is uh, not something it likes to believe. And survival first, questions later. Fear gas is so much easier to handle,” he complained.

Virgil nodded slower this time. Tim knew it was a lot to take in.

“So, a Canary Cry?” Virgil began once the silence began to stretch to uncomfortable.

“Kind of?” Tim read her file enough before just in case, and he had clear add-ons she didn’t have. “Enhanced hearing too, but I can use infra sound and hear it if I tune into it. Also can hear the weather more than usual.”

“More than—you could hear the weather before?” Virgil stared at him.

“Assumed it was the autism,” Tim dismissed. “Could be both now.”

Virgil shook his head, possibly grumbling about 'white boys' under his breath. “Any other metas in the family?”

“Not that are still around. Dad’s cousin had a similar voice ability,” Tim talked around the issue of Black Canary Senior being his disowned cousin. “But never met her. Fled long before I was born on Dad’s side. Mom’s is a mystery in general unless you ask for someone specific about a specific event or topic.”

Virgil shook his head. “Okay, but are you sure nothing else has gone on, anything unusual?”

“Not that I can think of off the top of my head. Broke down Batman’s resistance to me being Robin using what Mom taught me about destroying my enemy’s mental fortitude, so… I don’t think so.”

“Think on it. And I can help with the exposure therapy thing if you want, but getting any help for all of this besides me?”

“Step mom, Dad, and Ivy. Robin’s supportive but doesn’t know any specifics… I think. She caught me during training on a surveillance mission, only knows some powers. Dad, step mom and me are the only ones that know about all of them.”

Virgil sighed. “Bats can’t know?”

“Not if we want my dad to stay out jail.”

Virgil looked up at his ceiling. “Planning to your tell your friends?”

“…When I have a better idea of how to control the screaming part. They were already convinced I’ve been meta since we met.”

“Might have been.”

Oh, Tim had not thought that part through.

“…maybe? I’ll have to work that out at home… and thanks. I mean it.”

“No problem man, just try not to mix me with anyone you knew last life, or not too bad.”

“You’re safe. More worried about mixing current friends with my dead ones.”

Virgil shooed Tim out.

Tim relaxed, just a touch, before going back to cases in the commons and catching Stephanie up on Titans BS with everyone chiming in.

It was good to be home.

—

Tim knows, logically, he can tell his team about being murdered by his parents in his last life. He also remembers meeting Greta and knowing she wasn’t truly Dead, which is something he can’t explain fully still…

Virgil might have had a point about being some sort of meta (or maybe magic?) long before the JJ incident. Most kids can’t evade Batman and Robin for years just to take pictures of them mid-flight.

Maybe a sound nullification ability or something to that effect… he can bribe Ivy to help experiment with it later.

The problem is he doubts Kon wouldn’t lead the charge with his dad to summon and beat up said former filicidal parents. And he knows that the whole team would be on board if they knew.

He would rather not see Maddie or Jack again. Especially while awake. Jazz showing up a bit different in his dreams and complaining about his broken sleep schedule making it harder to visit was something he remained on the fence about telling anyone.

Possibly harass Captain Marvel about it as that guy said nothing about people’s shit unless it becomes a game of which plane of existence you can stay on… but even then, tracking him down without bat-tech is a game of whackamole.

There’s also the complication of Tim being very aware he likes Kon, and not necessarily as a friend alone. Which. He doesn’t have time for the additional sexuality crisis on top of his varied identity crises at the moment and the media’s questions about the two Robins and if Robin was gender fluid, flux or only out as a girl in Gotham and a young man elsewhere. He cannot add ‘crushing on a teammate’ to his list when he and Stephanie only broke up a week before the JJ incident and are just now easing back into their old friendship. He doesn’t want the amputated feeling of losing a friend again because he keeps catching feelings for them, and is 10,000% certain he should not touch romance until he’s in a better mental state.

He has Problems on his plate, and it’s already overflowing. He’d rather not break.

And he loves his friends. But he has no doubt that Cassie would set up the pitchforks rather than stop any of the retribution his father was undoubtedly planning. He can’t gift-wrap his friends as minions in his dad’s crusade to fuck over the Fentons across dimensions, spacetime and afterlife status.

He did manage to make a small list of oddities for himself about his capacity to do things that were vaguely ghostly or similar to powers he’d pieced together.

So far potential intangibility or density shifting, invisibility, faster recovery rate than non-metas yet slow for a meta—speed seems dependent on how likely the injury is to kill him. His high tolerance for the cold was making sense the further in Winter he got and the more he’d see flickers of Frostbite training him in his last life.

Whatever an ‘ice core’ is, seems cool. He may have taken to playing with discarded freeze guns and be reworking them to be smaller and more compact. Possibly to add to his future vigilante ID, or to be a general weapon as a civilian given non-lethal status and his ability to add a melting rate adjustment knob of some sort, and call 911.

Bart saw him with it, grinned manically, and joined in helping him improve and adjust it. Slobo joined them both.

Cassie took one look at them and declared it ‘not her problem if they freeze themselves’ while Kon was out on another press tour thing.

Tim pretended not to note those had increased lately only on days Tim was staying with Just Us for non-mission things and Kon’s increase in excuses to avoid him in general.

If Kon wanted distance, then he’d get it. Even if it stung. Kon’s time and his life to spend as he pleases. And clearly, Tim displeases him. /worthless. Monster. Failure. Stand-in. No wonder you’ve always been a loser—/

“So, for Robin time or outside the mask?” Greta asked when she caught the three near the end of a schematics debate.

“Not sure yet,” Tim admitted. “Rogues are weirdly chill with me in civvies lately. But that could be Ivy being Ivy.”

Bart and Slobo’s debate died at that. “Ivy?”

“Uh, Poison Ivy’s plants outted civilian me for something i was dealing with. She’s decided she’s helping with fine-tuning my control on it and gave me one of her ‘protected by’ pins.”

Greta hummed, floating nearer while Bart was buzzing in his place.

“and its a good thing?”

“Other than her shipping me and my ex? Parents approve of the additional support and it’s made intel gathering easier. She was right about the hearing range increase being a bitch to deal with daily.”

Cassie came in with their takeout then, and everyone dispelled to their usual nonsense.

“So, Ivy ships you and your ex?” Greta began with innocently enough.

Tim debated banging his head against the table.

“My civvie self and Gotham’s Robin,” he clarified. “And only enough to throw cuddle pollen on her and lock us together in… varied situations. And laugh about it.”

Cassie blinked at him slowly. “You are being teased by a Rogue who ships civilian you, with a vigilante.”

“… to be fair I am getting plant speak lessons, but yeah.”

“Rob, what the fuck,” Cassie shook her head.

Tim shrugged. “Its Ivy. A safe distraction for the minors she fights is her preferred MO. if it’s just Bats she can and will use sex pollen. If kids or unclear on minor status are involved, cuddle pollen galore.”

“Uh huh.” Cassie and Greta share a look. “So you dated girl Robin, before she became Robin?”

“She was Spoiler first, and I gave her tips on managing Bruce’s ass when I uh,” Tim still didn’t know how to explain ‘forcibly removed from vigilante activities as his dad worried about him dying in a cape like the last Robin, so Tim was forced to pass the buck of Bruce’s mental instability onto his ex-girlfriend and close friend, Spoiler, and coaches her in Bruce Wrangling at a distance’.

“Forced semi-retirement?” Cissie suggested as she stole a slice of pizza, cringing at Tim’s. Which was all his as Bart didn’t care for it. Sucker’s bet on keeping their slices safe from speedster snatching. Amateurs; clearly they never went to boarding school.

“That,” Tim took a bite of his Canadian bacon and pineapple goodness. “And also she’s officially Oracle’s Robin," he swallowed. "Just B’s for combat scenarios. Dad has decided to threaten B’s living status for her too.”

“Rob,” Slobo interrupted. “The fuck.”

“…in my defense, she asked me out a week after almost killing me the first time.”

“Your dad, not other Robin!”

“First time?!”

“She prefers bricks as her projectiles.” Tim wiped his hands clean after his first slice, humming as he went over the blueprint… how should he compensate for his screams and Wail?

“Oh, and she aimed at my head. She’s into three section staffs lately which is a lot less deadly.”

“Rob. She asked you out after almost killing you?” Bart clarified.

“… not on purpose but yeah.”

“She asked you out by accident?”

“No, almost killing part. She’s gotten better aim since, and is following the no killing until you’re not a bat-affiliate rule.”

His team shared looks he didn't bother to check. The urge to analyze could spiral into another screaming attack if he didn't nip it in the bud.

“So not getting back together with her?” Greta clarified with a smile that screamed Gossip Detected.

He let her have either way, even with the looks Cissie, Bart, and Cassie shared.

———-

Let me know if i missed any tags ^^

[pendragon-writes]

𝒮𝒽𝑜𝓅𝓅𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓈𝓀𝒾𝑒𝓈

Batman x Teen!Son!Reader

Requested: Yes

Note: I decided to go with just the two of them doing 'normal' family stuff (Let's be honest tho anyone related or is a part of his family doesn't have normal lol) This turned into more of the whole family than just Batman but I hope you like it anon.

"Hey Bruce do you have the list?" you asked him as you pushed the cart. Today was Alfred's day off and as a result, someone had to go shopping with him since the others would've caused chaos Bruce entrusted you to help him out. "Yep," he responded, pulling his cap more down.

As much as you enjoyed non-vigilante tasks you hated the fact that you had to hide your faces just so that paparazzi wouldn't charge at you in any public spaces or the fact even though you were a teen people felt the right to try and harass you even more than they did with your older siblings.

“Great, what do we have first on the list?” Once he told you the list the both of you continued shopping for stuff, and while everything was going smoothly something just had to ruin it.

°。°。°。°。°。°。

“Oh my god is that who I think it is?” A civilian said pointing with her daughter at the both of you, this caused you to freeze up for a second before continuing what you were doing. Bruce noticed this but didn’t comment anything since he didn’t want to bring any more attention to the both of you. Before the lady could try to walk up to the both of you Bruce quickly moved you both in another direction resulting in her losing you both.

Once you finished both the shopping and putting the groceries in the car you sat in the shotgun, just as you were about to put some music on your headphones he stopped you. "How about you play some of those songs you like on here?" He asked. "Um, sure. Do you have anything in mind?" "Not at all, just whatever you want" he replied. You hummed in response and started playing I'll never smile again, this seemed to be of his liking because he nodded in approval and continued driving.

°。°。°。°。°。°。

"Hey, Bruce?" "Yeah?" "Can we go to batburger?" "Sure, make sure to call the others and see what they want and let Alfred know as well". You grinned at this and texted the group chat.

°。°。°。°。°。°。

[This Chaotic Family]

Me: Hey what do you guys want? Me and B-man are at BatBurger

Get me the Cheesy Bat Combo with a coke! :D :Blue-Bird

In that case, I'll just get my regular :Bucket Head

1 Sweet tea and a Bat Pounder thanks (N/n)! :Computer Legend

I don't mind whatever you get for me will do just fine Master (Y/N)

:Alfred The Wise

Whatever is good as long as it's vegan. :Lil Robin

A coffee and Big bat with fries :Wanna-be Detective

Me: Tim unless you've forgotten you've been banned from coffee for this week...

Fine no coffee just get me a sprite then :Wanna-be Detective

Me: Got it

Dr. Pepper and Bat Burger plz :Cass

Get me a Bat-LT with curly fries :D Oh and Duke wants the same!

:Purple Lady

°。°。°。°。°。°。

As you both finished ordering and dropping off the food you both got ready to go on patrol together, as you put on your mask you turned to Bruce who finished putting on his cowl. He nodded towards the Bat-mobile and you entered the passenger seat.

°。°。°。°。°。°。

You jumped from building to building using your grappling hook to get to the farther ones, Bruce was nearby but was doing his own patrol just like you. You finally landed next to him and waited for Oracle or someone to let one of you know of anything going down. While you'd normally get a bunch of people and places you needed to help it seemed tonight was less busy, and that was true for most of the patrol before you heard Batman himself talking to someone. You turned to him, leaned on the wall, and waited. After a little while, he responded. "On my way. Let's go"

°。°。°。°。°。°。

"You needed me, Gordon?" Batman asked. Gordon hadn't seen you yet and you wanted to see just how long it'd take. "Ah yes, thank you, Batman. We have a case that neither my detectives nor me myself can solve." He showed him a file that read as classified. "Arnold Wesker? what does he want?" You asked from behind. "AH! Oh, it's you, hey kid" Gordon responded. "And yeah it's him, says he wanted to speak to Batman himself, no idea why but he won't tell us". You sighed at this, as nice of a guy as he was his puppet was extremely annoying to deal with, even if they've been separated again they somehow always manage to get back together.

°。°。°。°。°。°。

While Batman was talking with Wesker you waited outside of the room and started tossing a coin left to right, the loud clinking noise caught some of the guards' attention. At first, they didn't say anything but after a while, one of them asked to try it and you tossed them it. Most of the guards failed but it seemed to brighten up their day slightly getting to try something new out. When the Bat himself returned he saw one of the guards attempt to pass the coin to the other side and fail miserably. When the guard noticed they slowly went to pick it up and apologized quietly.

Once that whole ordeal was done and the patrol was over you both got back to the manor and started getting ready for movie night. A common tradition in the manor and a welcomed one after Alfred suggested it as a way for all of you to spend quality time.

°。°。°。°。°。°。

"So what are we watching?" Damian asked as he petted Alfred, the cat. "I don't know isn't it Dicks turn to pick?" You responded, sitting next to Cass and passing her the popcorn, to which she smiled in gratitude. "Today, my children we are watching Master Chief!" Dick answered in a mock British accent. "Dude your accent sucks!" Jason laughed. Laughter and giggles filled the room with even Bruce himself laughing a bit at the accent.

°。°。°。°。°。°。

After a few episodes all of them were fast asleep, some on top of the others and others laying on their back, you laying your head on Bruce's shoulder. Alfred walked into the sight and smiled. He saw all of you as one of his own and seeing all of you relaxed and getting some rest brought him some joy. He covered each of you in blankets and took a picture of you all together.

[marauderundercover]

A Robin in the Making: Meeting the Justice League

Bruce frowns at the monitor.

“I already told Superman that I cannot, under any circumstances, come to the Watchtower this week.” He says firmly. Oliver runs a hand down his face, obviously aggravated.

“Batman, I’m telling you, if any of us could figure out how the hell to fix it, we would. And we wouldn’t be calling your stubborn ass.” He huffs out. Bruce’s eye twitches under his cowl.

“I don’t have anyone to watch Robin.” He says, telling only a partial truth.

“Then bring the kid with! I’m sure we can figure out something for him to do while you fix the monitor station.” Oliver says. Bruce starts to argue again, because it really wouldn’t only be his oldest that he’d have to bring along, when a familiar voice cuts in.

“Whoa, really? Can we go, B, please, please, please?” Dick begs, appearing at the edge of the cave with a domino already on his face. And just like that, Bruce has no choice but to cave. Something he was sure Dick knew.

“Fine. We’ll be there in twenty.” He says curtly before hanging up. Sighing, Bruce turns to look at Dick. “You do realize Mari is going to have to go too, right?” He asks. Dick nods rapidly.

“B, you’re not even ready for how totally awesome this is going to be! I’ll go grab M.” He says, darting back up the stairs. Bruce blows out a long breath. He’d told the League that he had prior engagements in Gotham that would keep him from being on call for this entire week. With Alfred in England for another five days, he had no one to watch Dick or Marinette. Which meant he hadn’t even been patrolling for very long. Just long enough for people to notice him (something he rarely wanted as Batman), and then he went right back to the manor. Dick, as he was almost a teenager, had tried to convince Bruce that he could watch Marinette by himself for a few hours. It wasn’t that Bruce didn’t trust his son. He did. He just also knew that Marinette and Dick had been partners in crime ever since Marinette first pulled herself into a standing position. She took off after her older brother and never looked back. It never failed to put a smile on Bruce’s face- well, as long as it wasn’t accompanied by mischievous giggling from the two. Before he can get too lost in his thoughts, he realizes that the giggles are definitely real and approaching quickly.

“Dick, make sure you’re holding onto her!” Bruce calls out. After Marinette had made her appearance, he’d made sure there were railings everywhere in the cave. Didn’t mean he completely trusted the railings to be failproof.

“Don’t worry daddy! Dickie’s got me!” Marinette calls out, and Bruce relaxes slightly. Until the two appear in sight and he sees what his three year old daughter is wearing.

“Richard, why does Marinette have a Robin uniform?” He asks, working hard to keep his tone calm. He already wasn’t thrilled that Dick was running around every other night fighting crime. It terrified him, but the idea of Dick going out as Robin by himself and getting injured because he didn’t tell Bruce where he was going- that fear far outweighed the fear that Bruce had when he would spot his son out of the corner of his eye while going against a mugger. But his daughter, who was still a toddler, wearing a domino mask was a little too much for him.

“It’s not really a uniform, B. She’s not gonna go out and kick the Joker’s butt or anything. I just thought it’d be cool for her to be able to match me if we ever got to meet the League together. Pretty cool, right?” Dick presses, and Bruce takes a second to breathe. Looking closer, the outfit clearly just mimicked the Robin colors, and was obviously not made to fight in. It was, unfortunately, cute. There was even a tiny bat symbol on the belt of it.

“I’m a hero!” Marinette chirps happily, grinning up at him. Bruce softens immediately, crouching down so he can be more on her level.

“You make a great hero, sweetheart. Now remember, what do you call Dickie when he gets his outfit on?” Bruce asks. Ever since she’d started talking, he’d tried to drill the importance of secret identities to her. He knew it wasn’t exactly traditional parenting, but he figured it was better than just lying to her about such a big part of his life. She grins widely.

“Dickie is Robin and you’re B.” She says, rattling the words off as if she’d rehearsed them (he knew she had). Bruce smiles and picks her up, tossing her gently into the air before catching her, heart warming as she giggles and shrieks.

“Very good.” He says, then pauses as he realizes she doesn’t have a secret identity.

“I say we call her Bug, cause that’s already what Lucius and you call her when she has to go to WE.” Dick pipes up, walking back into the main part of the cave as he pulls on his last shoe. Bruce glances down at his daughter.

“Does that work for you?” He asks. She nods, grinning. Bruce exhales deeply. “Very well. Who’s ready to meet the Justice League?”

---

The second they zeta onto the Watchtower, Dick runs to the center of the room, slowly turning as he tries to take in everything. He’d met a few of the other heroes at the Hall of Justice before, but B had never let him go to space before!

“Hey sport. Where’s your old man?” Ollie asks, walking in with his arms crossed. Dick nods towards the zeta tubes.

“He’s gotta get Bug set up first, but he said it was fine for me to come ahead.” Dick explains. Ollie frowns.

“Bug?” He asks. “Is that a person?” Dick nods.

“Yup! She’s my little sister.” He says, and Ollie’s jaw drops.

“She- what- Batman has more than one kid?” He gasps. Dick snorts. It was always funny to see people’s reactions to B having kids. Before he can explain more, the zeta tube announces B and Mari’s arrival.

“B! B, look! Stars!” Marinette gasps, immediately tugging B over to the windows. Dick giggles at the look on Ollie’s face.

“Green Arrow. I assume you have figured out where Robin and Bug can go?” B asks, glancing back at the other hero while Mari was focused on the stars. Ollie sputters for a minute.

“What- I- what the hell, Batman! We had an idea for Robin, not a freaking toddler!” He huffs out. Marinette tilts her head to the side, and Dick’s eyes widen. Uh oh.

“B? What does ‘hell’ mean?” She asks, frowning.

“Oh sh-”

“Unless you want to teach her two new words today, I suggest you shut your mouth.” Batman says lowly. Ollie’s jaw snaps shut as he nods slowly. B turns to Mari. “That’s not a word we use, Bug. Green Arrow is going to have to go sit in time out becuase he said it. You don’t want to sit in time out, right?” Mari shakes her head rapidly.

“No! No fank you.” She says, messing up her ‘th’ like usual. Dick thought it made her the cutest kid ever.

“Very well. Robin, stay here with Bug. I’ll walk Green Arrow to time out and send Superman back here.” B says. Dick nods, and Mari rushes over to him.

“C’mon! Let’s do flips!” She says excitedly. Dick grins, immediately rushing over to help her with her cartwheels. He loved being a big brother.

@maribat-get-in

[astronomoney]

Pairing: Tim Drake x nb!reader (it’s not super romance heavy but I might do a part two)

Prompts: n/a this is purely self indulgent

Summary: sometimes life gives you lemons and sometimes life tells you your best friend and the guy you hate are the same person, your not sure what’s worse

Warnings: n/a

A/n: is this canon compliant? no. does it make much sense? not really. do I like and did I have fun writing it? absolutely. read at your own risk Masterlist also this should be totally nb but if you see anything that’s gender solid please let me know so I can fix it

Word count: 2k it got to long but there’s plenty of material for a second part (wink wink nudge nudge)

Secrets Spilled

Rich people suck. More specifically, rich teenagers suck. You should know, you go to school with one. Tim Drake, the pride and joy of Gotham Academy and the adopted son of Bruce Wayne. Was he actually adopted? You didn’t remember but that didn’t matter. Mr. Wayne has a habit of picking up strays almost as bad as Batman and Tim Drake was lucky enough to end up under his umbrella of wealth.

You had 3 classes with Tim Drake. He was smart and most of the teachers liked him well enough, in fact most of the school liked him. You however hated him. Sure he was cute and he seemed nice enough and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it but something about him was just off. Like he had some big secret or something.

No one at school seemed to agree with you on that. They all thought he was a perfect angel so you stopped trying to convince them of your anti-drake agenda a long time ago. Thankfully you had one person in your life who always listened to your rants.

“He sounds like a douchebag,” Red Robin said, sitting cross legged on your bed with an ice pack against his lip. Through some minor computer shenanigans, aka illegal hacking (nothing to bad), you had met and become close friends with none other than Red Robin.

It was a mutually beneficial friendship. For him it was an apartment almost exactly halfway between safe houses so on nights like tonight when he was a little bloody and bruised he’d stop by and you’d help patch him up. For you it was a captivated audience for your late night rants.

“Oh he totally is! Thank you for that, no one ever agrees with me,” You rolled your eyes thinking about how many times you’d heard people gush about the billionaire brat. You sat down across from him and opened the first aid kit you’d just dug out from under your bed.

You were too busy rifling through the various bandages and ointments to notice your vigilante friend desperately trying to hide his smirk. “Yeah no problem,”

“He’s way smart too, which is super annoying.” You found the healing gel you were looking for. “I swear he’s hiding something, he must be like an alien or a robot or-” You looked up to see a laugh-suppressing-grin on the heros face, “Don’t laugh, I'm serious! This guy is a pain and just because he’s hot people let it slide!”

Red's face went completely serious and you could’ve sworn you saw his cheeks tint pink underneath his domino mask but then again his left side had a sizable cut on it so you really couldn’t tell. “You- you think he’s hot?”

“That is so not the point I'm trying to make!” You rolled your eyes and dabbed a bit of gel on the cut. “But yeah, his looks are like, his only redeeming quality.” Once you had laid a thin layer against the cut you used some butterfly bandages to hold it closed. It was exactly pretty but it would heal well, and the gel would make it nothing but a small scar in a week or so. “You know, you kinda look like him. Is that what you're hiding?” You used this opportunity to tap the bottom edge of the mask, resisting the urge to just take it off right then. “Rugged good looks and a billionaire smile.”

“Oh ha ha,” He retorted sarcastically, lightly moving your hand away from the fabric. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t dying to know his identity. It’s not that he didn’t want to tell you, it’s just that he’d heard you complain about his alter ego enough times to worry about your reaction, plus the whole ‘your-life-would-be-in-constant-danger-if-you-knew’ thing. Lately he’d found himself going out of his way to end up knocking on your window and he didn’t want what you had to change.

“You're no fun.” You huffed, hoping off the bed stashing the first-aid kit once again. You heard a small buzz and knew that Red had gotten an alert.

He stood up, and listen for a second. You could only guess he was getting instructions via earpiece. “Got it, I’m on my way.” He called over coms before turning back to you with an apologetic look.

You spoke before he could get an apology out. “Let me guess, some goon’s breaking open an ATM and everyone else is busy?”

“Pretty much yeah,” He ducked under your windowsill onto your fire escape. “Thanks for the help. I don’t know where I'd be without you.”

“Probably at that robbery already,” You gently shoved him the rest of the way through the window and bid him farewell. You watched him grapple off into the dim moonlight before getting back into your bed. Over the past few weeks you’d started staying up later just in case a certain someone happened by, this of course made that full 8 hours a little harder to come by. You didn’t really care though, a little less sleep for a little more time with him seemed like a fair trade.

The next morning finally came and you weren’t exactly pleased to hear the familiar beeping of your alarm clock. Still you forced yourself out of bed, pulled your uniform on and got your stuff together before heading out the door to another day at Gotham Academy.

You didn’t have any classes with Tim on Friday’s but you usually saw him passing you in the hall or at lunch. Today was different. One might even say he was avoiding you, but why. You saw a glimpse of him quickly heading away from you before second period, and at lunch you got a great view of the back of his head for about 30 seconds before he ducked out to go who knows where. Sure, you weren’t exactly friends but today it seemed he’d gone completely out of his way to make sure you didn’t see him. And it was pretty successful, at least until you literally collided with him.

School had let out and you had almost left the building before you remembered you’d left something behind, on your way back to your locker you turned a corner without caution and slammed into him at full force. It was a classic early 2000s movie scene, papers and books flying and strewn across the floor, both parties crouching down to collect up their scattered items and inevitably accidentally grabbing the wrong paper or two.

“Ah sorry, i’m so sorry I didn’t see-” That’s when you actually saw who it was you’d bumped into. “Tim?” You handed him the printed out english paper that definitely wasn’t yours.

“Sorry, I should have been watching where I was going.” He apologized as you both stood up and placed your papers in your respective books bags. Something about him was even more off then usual. He wouldn’t even meet your eyes, in fact he kept his gaze firmly to his left. Maybe he’d somehow heard you complain about him and now he wanted nothing to do with you. Maybe you’d messed it all up.

You were about to awkwardly say bye and shuffle off when a locker a little ways away from you slammed shut, startling you both and causing Tim to finally look to his right.

“Whoa what happened to your face?” You asked leaning in slightly to see the hefty gash that had been carefully held together with butterfly bandages. “That looks just like,” It clicked. “hOLY-”

“SHHH!” Tim acted fast, he clapped a hand over your mouth, effectively putting your mind shattering realization on silent and rushed the both of you into a thankfully unlocked maintenance closet nearby.

Suddenly a bajillion pieces were falling into place in your mind. Tim cursed. “God, if you know now what I think you know you’re gonna have a lot of questions. So I'm gonna move my hand but you have to be quiet about it. Ok?” He spoke softly and full of concern. After all, he may have just caused a massive overload in your brain. Your kind of enemy and your closest confidant were the same damn person, who knows what that could do to someone’s psyche.

You nodded profusely, still unable to even conjure a sound. Slowly Tim lifted his hand away from your mouth and watched you closely. You didn’t say anything for a beat, you just stared back at him and then, “What the actual fuck! You’re him and he’s- which means- I mean all this time- and… what?!?”

“Umm yeah?” In all honesty this was going better than Tim had imagined it would. Whenever he’d envisioned you finding out it usually started with you cursing him out and ended with you never talking to him again, but now here he was. You hadn’t cursed him out exactly and you were kind of still talking to him so overall, better than expected. “I wanted to tell you ages ago I swear. I just know how you feel about… well me,” He gestured down to his civilian attire. “and I wasn’t sure how you’d react.”

“All this time,” You were still definitely in shock. “All this time you were him and he was you! And you never told me! I talked about you to you! I called you hot!”

“Oh yeah, thanks by the way.” A shit eating grin had made its way onto his face and you were not pleased.

“Oh fuck off!” You sunk down to sit on a little step stool that happened to be in the closet. “I can’t believe I was so dumb. I mean how did I not see it sooner!”

Tim crouched down in front of you. “To be fair, we put a lot of effort into keeping our secrets.”

“We? Wait a second! If you’re Red Robin, that makes Batman-”

“Yup.”

“And Nightwing-”

“Oh yeah.”

“So Robin is-”

“A total pain in the ass. But yeah, it’s Damian.”

“Holy shit!”

Tim finally let himself laugh a bit at your reaction. You were smart and he knew that, there had been a few times over the past few weeks when he thought you might put it all together and he’d gone out of his way to cover it up. Including (but not limited to) a leaked story to the tabloids about a Tim-Drake-kidnapping-attempt that was thwarted by the one and only Red Robin.

While the tabloids weren’t the most believable sources it had planted a seed in your brain that Red Robin and Tim Drake were in the same place at the same time. Of course thanks to that cut on his cheek he wouldn’t need to lie to you anymore.

“Don’t laugh! I can’t believe I didn’t see this months ago. I mean your stupid mask doesn't even cover that much!” You exclaimed, throwing your arms in the air to emphasize your point.

Tim lightly grabbed your arms and brought them back down. “Ok ok, i’m serious but you seriously need to calm down.” He still had a massive grin on his face.

“I am calm!” You defended. “I mean considering. Wait, how did this start? Did you have to train long? When did you find out who Batman was? Is he really a Vampire?” You rattled off questions a mile a minute, finally the shock and slight annoyance had given way to pure curiosity.

Tim looked around the small maintenance room, contemplating a really bad idea. “I can’t explain anything else here, but if you want I can take you to the Batcave? I mean you’ve already guessed most of the secrets and even if I don't tell you the rest you’ll probably figure it out anyway.”

a/n: I broke 2k and couldn’t figure out a satisfying ending so I just called it here but if y’all show this one some love i’ll do a part too (guest appearances and everything)

taglist: @starship-argo @reveriecore @luvcoy @instabull @littlered-fangirl click here to be added :)

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

I just woke up but let's throw some thoughts to the wall here :]

Disclaimer: Sometimes I mix up pre and post stories

Quilt Man

Quilt Man. VERY early on, Batman pretty much forced Jason to take on the Robin mantle over Jason having his own hero identity, equating Jason having his own identity to how thats selfish and wanting credit for the work, thus equating it to how he may want to reveal Batman is Bruce Wayne but doesn't. Thus, Jason is officially Robin. Their first foe? Quilt Man, who hates what Dick as Robin did to him, and wants to get revenge. Quilt Man separates Batman and Robin with his lights. And beats Jason up to the point Batman immediately wails about he didn't want Jason dead

Jason could die here! It could be a lovely tragic tale Bruce could be in absolute grief over because he forced the Robin mantle that Jason very much had issues with and Jay died immediately to a villain specifically because that villain was after ROBIN. Dick will also be in absolute agony over this one considering he DEFINITELY blames himself for the death of Jason's parents. Way to kill off the whole Todd family, guys

(There's ALSO a mind control plot in the og story, which you could also do something with)

Black Mask

Black Mask was INTRODUCED during Jason's Robin era! They didn't interact much from what I recall. But we already know what he can do from Steph. This puts it a bit up in the air though, fun connection between them or just taking an important event from Steph? To your discretion. Black Mask at this time had a shtick for killing people by putting masks on their faces using a highly dangerous glue/failed makeup from his company that essentially corrodes the face (a less dangerous form is melting the face, but leaving you alive and your skin still attached to your skull) IF I REMEMBER EVENTS CORRECTLY: Jaybin had been there when they defeated Black Mask, and his house burned down in the process, could also do something with that

Ohh,, I wonder if you could have more parallels to original but having Jason trying to help Circe. Not his mom, but coerced and controlled by Black Mask and in danger. And on his side at some point, I don't remember if she ever turned her back on him,,,

Angry Mob

I know you already mentioned getting trampled, but I GOTTA mention getting trampled!!!! Legends my beloved,,,,, This story was a mind control plot to stir unrest and get civilians against superheros! So it was everyday people doing the harm. And can I just say, I consider crushed by a human mob or stampede VERY viscerally terrifying! This one with the added bonus for jaybin of everyone ACTUALLY being out to get you! And like,,,, man. Words alone can't do this justice here's the pages

(Perfume is what takes him out??)

Jason calling for help while being dragged down,,, probably seeing batman just leave,,,, mwah mwah mwah mwah. Jason is hospitalized after this (and spend quite awhile in the mob considering he's not seen again until the end of the next issue,,,,) Jaybin is found unconscious!! In the hospital we coukd tell he head a head injury, eye injury. A cast on his arm, and a cast on his leg that actually goes from his foot to above his knee and to his thigh

You could go two directions with this!! The mind controlled mob isn't so kind to just leave Jason unconscious, so he dies terrified and surrounded, ripped to shreds with no help amd having seen Batman leave him. Or! You could have Bruce try to run in and save Jason anyway, only for Gordon to actually be right, and the croud is stirred from Batman's presence enough to get more violent. Ohh maybe Bats has to see Jason die right there only to have to be pulled out anyway, so it STILL takes awhile to actually reach his son's corpse,,,,,,

Alternatively alternatively, Jason survives this one but dies in the NEXT mob, he did walk in (from the hospital) (still in casts) (head injury) saying he's gotta help even if it kills him. Of course he did succeed in helping with the other children, and I'd hate to take that away from him, but man imagine seeing Robin die horrifically on like, international television.

BONUS:

Teen Titans team-ups. Specifically the Brother Blood one. (But the others work too! Esp since this one is a bit wibbly wobbly in being pre or post to some if a recall) Jason had to fall back and be support because that was way over his league (he still helped alot! Like, reunited Raven with her mother alot. And i think more i dont remember. He understood his limits and knew he couldn't fight this) tensions were HIGH, the situation was DIRE. He snuck off without telling batman to help the titans (hey I'm noticing a theme here Mr. Young hero who's willing to die to help) and hey!! Fun little bitty connection to the dimension with priest Jason who got mixed up with brother blood!) Plus everyone Dick fan's favorite, stirring up Dick's guilt complex!

Eaten alive by an animal. Joining the rest of the Todd family! Nothing specific in mind, a crocodile to keep up with them. Ooh hey, Catwoman's panther Diablo is a candidate, that was pre crisis right? Wasn't there a story where Diablo was killing people? Or was the panther framed,, ah! Poisoned and acting out of character? ah.. fuzzier and fuzzier.... that was also the story where Diablo died

Out with Nocturna. Leading up to the crisis, Nocturna, Jason's adopted mother Natalia Knight, was IMMENSELY concerned about the sky being red. There was a whole little arc on this. It ended with her in an awful storm and fully just disappearing and very presumed dead (then removed from existence after crisis), we could have Jason die with her

Calender Man. While calendar man's threat to Robin's life WAS a trick to actually get Batman while Batman was focused on protecting Robin. It could still be a fun idea to kill him here!

Any number of enemies in a story after, aka not tied to a specific comic story. Quilt Man's final revenge against Robin! Manbat tries again to make his own manbatling! Throw the Scarecrow in there because Jay fights him alot. And because its so easy to make Dick and Bruce wreaks about Jason due to the flying todd's similarities to Dick, have Jason fall :). So on!!! So so much you can do!!

The start of post crisis. The thing about post crisis is that its not exactly a hard slams it's hand down and tells you reboot. It just sorta starts happening and you gotta figure out as the story goes on. What better way to kill a pre-crisis Jaybin than with the starts of post that you do NOT immediately clock. Have him shot down by the Mad Hatter or have him shot by the Joker (Dick was the robin shot by Joker) (But pre crisis doesn't tell you when it starts so many people (me) blind reading thought it was Jaybin at first until the reveal)

Theres alot of precrisis and alot you can do! Have him die saving Rena! Have him die when pushed away from helping Batman! Use that delightful tendency of his to find someone else to hang out with when pushed away from Batman (hey where have we heard THAT before...). I didn't even MENTION the time Batman went to Montreal for a mission AND LEFT JAYBIN TO DEFEND GOTHAM ALONE. As well as the character Fang, who did nearly kill Robin (he's the dead body Jaybin and Nocturna ended up hiding later) ooh maybe do something with the squid. Do something where instead of smoke inhalation you have Jaybin die from hypothermia because he's always complaining about how cold he is when in the snow and stuck with bare arms and legs due to uniform </3

I do like when it feels like Jason has more agency in his death so it doesn't fully go in the "Jason is imcompotent and died because he just sucks at this" direction. Which some of these in their base forms don't address, but they do put Bruce in agony because they can be very directly tied to his choices so I let it slide

we see glimpses of alternate universe jasons who still die or go through some life altering event (off the top of my head theres father todd and the arkham knight and earth 51 jason) but what about pre crisis jason? what unavoidable fate would befall him at 15 and what would the aftermath look like?

He's happy! He's alright and he grows up and invents a new sports called Acrotheatre which involves performing Shakespeare plays on trapezes, wires, silks and other aerial contraptions and doing flips! He becomes his own hero with a very silly name and goes to college and gets married to Rena and brings Natalia back to life because he deserves to!! They all have family dinner with Waldo the clown every weekend!!!

------

My desperate need for a universe in which Jaybin is okay aside, maybe a darker take on the Manbat kidnapping thing? Like the transformation takes hold and Jason becomes a werebat... And maybe Bruce tries to synthesize an antidote but maybe the person he seeks out for help betrays him or something and Jason ends up maiming himself and in chronic pain with a werebat curse that leads him to hate himself and he leaves in search of a cure?

Honestly this one I find hard because I feel like whether it's post-crisis, Arkham Knight, earth 51, etc. all the universes after the first crisis are much darker than pre-crisis. So while we can and do have angst, I feel like any idea I have from pre-crisis (something to do with crocodiles, manbat transformation, getting trampled in a stamped of mind-control superheroes...) like, those are bad, but they don't have the same vibe as Jason's usual tragic arcs, yk? Idk maybe it's just me 🤔 if anyone has suggestions feel free to contribute!

[uncouth-the-fifth]

imagine damian and the reader at the wayne gala. he gets jealous when he sees her flirting with someone else. he ends up pulling her into a bathroom and fucking her in front of a mirror while saying that other person can’t treat her like he does

and that’s how the reader finds out damian has feelings for her. all this time he acted like he hates her because he’s in denial

Title: More Than They Ever Said

Paring: Robin!Damian (18+) / Canary!Reader

Tags/Warnings: semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, bathroom sex, slight underage drinking (reader is like 20 lol), mentions of golf.

Word Count: 7150

Notes: sooooo.... this def evolved beyond a drabble lol. the way gala sex kills me every time 😭 I was a little mushy w Dami here bc I miss his sweet side. This also sounded a lot like goldenspecs12's request from Wattpad, so I hope you don't mind that I meshed the two together 😚 I leaned toward Damian liking the reader more than being in denial, but that’s the only thing I sacrificed between the two requests. This one is my fluffiest and most romantic yet 💖

"can I request Damian w a Queen reader, like she's Oliver and Dinah's child? say the reader is a hero but not very active, like she comes in when her parents can't. so when she and Damian meet, they hit it off. The main request is that they sneak away at a gala held by Oliver and the reader and Damian have sex."

Ask to be added to my taglist for future posts!

The party was more fun than you thought it would be.

Benefits were usually chalk-full of old, wealthy people that thought they made good conversationalists. The board members of Queen Industries were tired of Oliver trying to escape their claws, so you’d been recruited in his place. While your dad got to play minigolf in the penthouse’s massive party floor, you were confined to the lounge, playing up what an intelligent, capable business partner you’d be when you were CEO. Fellow businessmen gruffed about their plans with you while their wives cooed and drank, pinching your cheeks.

You thought that you’d hate it, but the attention and the praise was nice. It made you feel like you were helping your dad and your family’s company, which was constantly criticized and judged for it’s choice in CEO. Everyone called your father a lazy silver-spooned idiot, but he was one of the only men in Star City who actually cared. By the time you had Q.I’s biggest donors laughing out of their seats, Dinah’s hands slipped over your shoulders and you were kissed on the side of the face. Thank you, she mouthed, and your position as family support-beam was covered.

Since most of the benefit-goers were at least forty years your senior, you gravitated to your dad. From the penthouse’s upper balcony, you could see his friends circling around the tiny green mats they were using as a makeshift golf course. Usually, Ollie made sure his public persona’s aim was as garbage as his taste in drink was. But tonight, he played as Green Arrow, who never missed. Not once. Especially when it came to Bruce Wayne, who’s golf game was abysmal at best.

But like Oliver, Bruce was a new man tonight. It looked like he was ready to break out the batarangs any minute now. The two men were barely civil about the viciousness of their competition, and if the view of the game from the balcony was interesting, then from below it must’ve been the greatest show of fragile masculinity ever displayed. You had to make fun of them.

The only opening in the circle of men, who all had their hands on their chins as Bruce lined up his next shot, was by the floor-to-ceiling windows to one side of the game. Just one man stood there, hands in his pockets. You slid next to him, unbothered, and squinted at the game.

Everyone in the crowd was dead silent. Bruce was lining up his golf ball so it would roll into a mug a couple of feet away, so you helpfully provided, “A little to the left, Mr. Wayne.”

Your words overlapped with someone else’s. Where you had said Mr. Wayne, they had said Father. Then the man next to you was his son, but...

You would have never guessed it would be him.

Reasonably, you knew that Robin was Damian Wayne. Oliver could be a little loose-lipped at times, and by his judgment you’d been a teenager just a year ago - what could a twenty year old do to Batman’s secret identity? Not much.

Until you saw Robin without his mask.

Damian was achingly beautiful. He was your age, but he stood and talked like he was much older. There was an angle to his shoulder that made him seem astute and sexy. His eyes fixed on you when you spoke at the same time, and they were a surprising mossy color that jumped out against his tan skin, like plants flourishing out of rich soil. There was just enough blue in them to make him seem haunting. Any moment, you felt like he was going to corner you and whisper your future throatily in your ear.

Looking into them, those piercing eyes, for longer than a second made you want to blurt, “You’re much prettier without your mask.”

But that would expose his secret to every golf-loving idiot in earshot, so Oliver had been wrong. A twenty-year-old like you could do fatal damage to Batman’s secret identity, but for Damian, the short-tempered, snappish leader of the Teen Titans, you would risk anything.

Damian stared, and you stared. He squinted, wet his lips, then turned back to the game. This was your only acknowledgment that he recognised you. His voice was deeper, smoother, than you remember it. “Queen.”

You shifted in your shoes, almost laughing in shock. “...Wayne.”

The game grew boring and Damian didn’t say anything else, so you said nothing too, sneaking glances at him. The last time you’d spoken to Robin had been in costume, when he’d thanked you for assisting with a mission. He’d really been thanking you for standing up for him. You didn’t team up often with the Titans, but when you did, you found that they were unusually snappy and mean with their leader. Not necessary on purpose, but you could tell that Damian couldn’t take as many bites as he pretended to. Standing up for him had been a simple thing. The good thing to do. Now, with that look in his eyes, it almost felt like he still thought about it.

He must have, because the kiss you shared at the end of that mission had glowed with heat. To be fair, you both may have believed you were going to die (before the team pulled through and saved you), so it could’ve been a heat-of-the-moment thing. But this was Robin - if he didn't want to kiss you, he wouldn't. And yet he did.

You’d kissed. And the energy of that kiss lingered between you now, drawing you closer together, putting tiny smiles on your faces. He was cute. Cuter without that mask on.

You stood in the stupid golf silence, feeling foolish. Flirting with boys was much easier in fishnets. It didn’t help how fine Damian’s profile was. He had soft, feathery lashes that occasionally touched down on beauty marked cheeks. His lips were even fuller from the side, forever drawn in a curious line. And those eyes, when they caught yours and danced away again, were much too nice to hide behind a mask. You couldn’t get that thought out of your mind.

When Bruce finally made his move, you leaned in to whisper something to each other at the same time, accidentally knocking shoulders.

“I - apologies,” Damian flushed.

“Oh, um, my bad,” you rubbed awkwardly at the spot where you’d collided. “...You were going to say something?”

Damian’s eyes flicked to your fathers, then to you, unimpressed. He lowered his voice so only you could hear. “They’re awfully hypocritical, don’t you think? Father snaps at me everytime I use my skills in public, and yet he’s putting with perfect aim like it’s not the very same.”

Chuckling, you rolled your eyes and scooted closer, ducking your voice into the bubble between your bodies. “My dad’s the same way. Don’t aim in the house, he says, unless it’s him trying to beat Bruce Wayne.”

Your company’s shoulders turned sideways, leaning into you. His breath ghosted the hair on your neck, standing it on end, and again that silky voice sent tingles down your spine. Damian must change his voice as Robin, because he never spoke like this then. So huskily, so low.

He shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

You watched him. He watched you. You ran your tongue over your teeth, and Damian subtly adjusted his slacks from his pockets.

At the same time, you asked each other, “Would you like to get a drink?”

_

Your hiding place was a loveseat in the lounge, between more businessmen and their ditzy heirs. The bartender was your family’s, so he smiled and turned down your request for a drink, courtesy of your dad’s strictness. Luckily, he didn’t recognise Damian. You watched him order it at the bar, his rings catching the light, the muscle in his arms peeking out from under his blazer.

“I think he suspected I wasn’t of age, so he only gave me one.” He took the place next to you, propping his ankle on one knee and lounging out like a panther. Damian offered the cocktail to you, once he’d decided the coast was clear. It was a cute gesture. “Is that acceptable?”

You fished a five dollar bill out of your purse. “Only if you take this for paying. Don’t think I didn’t see you try and sneakily get that past me.”

Damian scrutinized the bill, then you, somehow managing to be a smartass without opening his mouth. Instead of thinking about how nice it would feel to kiss the slight crease between his brows, you traded hands with him so the bill was in his and the drink was in yours. The gentle brush of you palm to his knuckles put way too many butterflies in your belly.

You talked about everything and anything. About home, family life, your cities. The best of it was when Damian dipped his head so only you could hear him, keeping your secrets close and your bodies closer. This was the only way he talked about Robin, so you circled back to any vigilante subject you could think of just so Damian would keep purring into your ear like that. Better yet, he was smart. Talking to him was engaging, and within minutes he'd entranced you, so you sat there talking for more than an hour. Around you, the party rotated and went on.

At one point, you took a drink of the cocktail and passed it to him to share. Damian placed his lips right where yours had been, licking up the cocktail salt and gulping it down slow, adam’s apple bobbing, like it wasn’t the taste of the vodka he was savoring.

Eventually, your bliss was broken. Damian was called over to his father, again, to discuss business, and he left you with your remaining cocktail and the memory of that mission. You couldn’t find a reason to move from your seat. When you’d realized that you and Robin had been led into a trap on that mission, it’d been too late, and your efforts to escape became more and more futile. All you could do was pray the Titans got to you on time. Robin had offered you his glove as the walls closed in, and you’d watched up-close as he assumed you were both about to die. The fear in his eyes was strange - like it was familiar to him. At the same time, you cupped his neck and he held your upper back, and you’d kissed fervently, sweetly.

Damian had put his forehead to yours, and promised even as the trap shrunk around you, “You were excellent. More excellent than they ever said.”

In the big picture, it was a strange last remark to make, and afterwards you’d been too happy about surviving to think about it. But in the moment, you understood. You were understood. Somehow, Damian had reached into your soul and gouged out the words you’d been dying to hear, from your parents, from anyone, and uttered them to you with burning conviction. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe he meant it. Damian found you excellent. Someone, somewhere, didn’t think you were a failure.

Odd, how you’d never seen the face of the man you thought you’d die with (until now), and yet he saw you so easily. You watched him follow his father into the party crowd now, wondering. The Titans had saved you before you could ask what he’d meant. More importantly, before you could tell him the same. He was excellent.

_

Once you’d finished off your drink, you left it at the bar and grinned evilly at your family bartender. He rolled his eyes and slyly delivered you another, which, on your superhero schedule, would not have you drunk yet. Another heir to some big company was seated at your right, ignored by his father enough to look for some small talk with you.

He was one of the cute, nerdy types that were usually in awe of you. Girls, available girls, were typically rare at these kinds of parties, so he took you not having a boyfriend as permission to flirt with you. Unfortunately for him, your seat gave a perfect angle on Damian across the party floor. He was impressing the wives of Wayne business partners, who flocked around him like they’d flocked around you, pinching his cheeks. You could almost read their lips enough to guess what they were saying. What a handsome young man you are! Oh, Bruce must be so proud.

“...and then my father flipped over his kayak! Would you believe it? Two thousand dollars, thrown right in our family’s lake.” Your company snickered, howling at his own story.

You circled the rim of your glass, watching how Damian tried to teach some of the women phrases in Arabic. Unknown to them, they were some pretty funny swear words. It threw you into a bout of giggles, and the man next to you kept talking, spurred on by the noise.

The flock of hens around Damian receded, and his shoulders slouched in relief. That was cute, too. It wasn’t often that people understood how draining these parties were, but for people like you and Damian, it was a racetrack of endless, boring circles. Everything was a formality. Few things were genuine. Damian turned, and you caught his eye to let him know you were going to meet him. He nodded toward a side hall, his mouth a curious line again. If you looked at it long enough, it felt like a smile when he mouthed, escape?

Your company was still talking. He stopped when you grabbed his tie and planted a pity-kiss on his cheek, waving to him as you bounced away. “Sorry, kid. Not my type.”

_

You planned to bring Damian to the secluded balcony on the second floor to unwind, but instead, you were taken by the wrist and maneuvered into an empty powder room. It was colder than the steaming party air and smelled like champagne, with couches to sit on and mirrors to powder at. For a bathroom, the lights were warm and low. The noise of the party went quiet the instant the door was shut, like you and Damian had entered your own little world. No more circles. No more back and forth.

“Here,” Damian said, noting the mirrors. He tilted his head as he asked, like he was nervous, “Is this acceptable?”

“It is the ladies powder room, but I’ll give you a pass, since you’re cute.” You joked. Damian didn’t make a move to relax on one of the couches yet, hanging in front of you like there was more he wanted to say. There was more you wanted to say, too, but no good words came to mind.

But the silence wasn’t awkward. Again, Damian stared, and you stared. The glass he brought with him was set down. He put one fist on the counter beside the door, and like honey had been poured on your nerves, you realized how easy it would be for him to push you up against it. Kiss you senseless. Heat drooled off of him this close, and you wondered if he’d still lean in to whisper to you even if you were alone.

The lack of words drew to a point where something had to be said, anything, but his eyes felt so good on your skin and it was interesting to see him nervous. Something strange told you that Damian liked the silence, too.

You wet your lips with your tongue. Damian cleared his throat, and took a sip from his glass. “Was I interrupting something?”

“Between me and that guy?” You smiled gently, like you were reassuring him, and laughed to yourself. “Oh, man, you should’ve seen it, Damian. Poor kid really thought I was flirting with him. He’d totally convinced himself, it was hilarious.”

His profile was tense in the mirror, which you stole glances at to watch how the amber light played on his handsome skin. When Damian swallowed his drink, his throat rolled in the sexiest way, and immediately your mind fed you with visions of suckling, kissing, tonguing his neck.

“Why’d you ask?” Your eyes sparkled. Damian drew a step closer, and you used the opportunity to swipe a drop of alcohol from the corner of his lip with your thumb. “You jealous?”

It was the touch or the suggestion that made Damian pause. He didn’t stutter, but lagged over what to say, eyes vast and wanting as they raked over your face. “I don’t get jealous,” he clarified, “but… I do intend to be the only man to kiss you tonight.”

Damian’s hand took your chin. Your belly exploded with instant arousal, hitting you like a bullet of liquid lust. “You’re the only man who’s kissed me like that,” you whispered, taking his tie in hand. “I hope that’s always true.”

His voice had gone throaty. “May I kiss you again?”

Again, he reminded you.The two of you had kissed before, and it had been spectacular, terrifying, and excellent.

“Please,” you said, and Damian rushed to your aid.

Not a moment more was wasted. Curling his tie into your fist, you drew him in, slow and deep and wonderfully. Damian’s cologne hit you before his lips did, and both made your core throb for friction. Two broad hands slammed your hips into the door. His fingertips smoothed up the fabric of your dress, pressing you back and squeezing you in until you could feel his belt buckle against your belly. Damian was a sweet, magnetic kisser, chasing your lips like he was on a crusade to save them. Each time they met, he swam deeper. The point of his nose bumped against your cheek. You hummed your laugh against his lips, and Damian groaned as he pulled away, readjusting, twisting, testing the limits of the kiss. And you followed him at every step or more, revelling in his taste.

You didn’t want him to think you wanted the kiss to end, so you drew the hands braced under his blazer around his neck. Soon, that didn’t feel close enough, so you cupped each side of his face and pecked Damian until you were breathless. He brought you in until your arms were flat to his chest, the kiss almost vertical in its intensity.

He groaned when you parted, gasping and blinking just inches from your face. Your mouths were still connected by a thick string of drool, which hung until it split and clung to Damian’s chin and fell, marking a wet strip down into his collar. You panted, watching it go.

Damian left your waist to hold your wrists, keeping your hands around his face. He settled warmly into your touch, basking in it, and the pure enjoyment on his face made you smile. You wondered if anyone else had cared for him like this. If Damian had ever felt someone hold his face and treasure it. The thought gave you a strange urge, so you followed it.

You brought Damian’s brow level with your mouth and sweetly kissed his forehead. Then his nose bridge, then his temples. His face was so quickly warm that you giggled. In the most unsubtle way possible, Damian drew back his hips so you couldn’t feel the heat there, and closed his eyes, begging you to continue.

“I want you,” you whispered against his jaw.

Damian shivered. “You have me.”

You shifted one hand to his shoulder, giving yourself more room to nuzzle and kiss his neck. The line of drool was still there, so you cupped his skin and tilted his jaw up, and in one stroke, licked all the way to his earlobe. Damian’s moan poured from his mouth like a growing flood. You even felt his thighs press together between you, and pleasure tingled in your throat when he choked at the glide of your tongue.

He released your wrists, reached beside you, and locked the door with an audible click.

Then, Damian devoured you. Both hands hooked around your back, arching your chest into his, and finally, bringing his bulge between your hips. You clung to him for dear life, helpless as his teeth pressed into your neck like a vampire. Damian fed like one, too, suckling the skin there like he was starved. Your panties were so wet that you were desperate to get out of them, grinding your core against his.

Damian retreated, gasping. He licked the spit off of his lips and glared into your eyes. Bluntly, he said, “I want to eat you out.”

Once more, you kissed him, delirious with excitement. Your lungs burned for air, but your core burned harder for him. “Take off that suit and you can do whatever you want to me.”

His eyes gleamed. “I plan to.”

Quickly, you shoved your hands into his sleeves and pushed them off his shoulders, giving you a crisp glimpse at his carved shoulders. Damian's fingers blurred from button to button, but he saved the last for you on purpose. You worked in tandem and with little thought. If he could, Damian would steal a kiss, and you would bite his lip and chase him into more. When that last button was popped, his white button-down parted for a gorgeous plane of hard-earned muscle. His abs, ribs and pecs were pockmarked with scars, shrapnel marks and in some places, bullet holes. You stopped.

At your staring, Damian pressed his lips together.

“It's.. not appealing, I know,” he monotoned.

“No,” you disagreed, palming his stomach, “it’s impressive. All these do is show how strong you are, how long you've survived. You're so… built...” you didn't hide your thorough examination of him, “...I mean, we have to be to do what we do, but still… It suits you. It's sexy.”

You worried you'd ruined the moment with your babbling, but he glimmered under your praise. Damian brightened in the way only Damian could, smirking devilishly and towering over you like a supervillain.

“Sexy?” He pressed his naked chest into yours, whispering hotly in your ear. You could feel his silk tie pinned between you. “Does that mean I'm your type?”

You rolled your eyes. “Eavesdropper.”

“Temptress,” Damian replied, just as easily.

To claim your title, you found Damian's belt and pulled on it until the clasp gave. It made a satisfying whipping noise as you ripped it off of him, shouldered into his space to grab his waist in one hand, and cupped his throbbing boxers in the other. Damian's sigh came hoarsely and wanton from his mouth.

“Fuck me,” you demanded, grinning with delight.

Instead of wasting time on a response, Damian fell to his knees, a faithful worshipper. He did the gentlemanly thing and helped you kick off your heels. The tile was icy on your bare feet, but it only mattered until Damian ran his hands up your thighs. Sliding his fingers underneath the fabric, he bunched it up your middle, peering up at you smugly through his lashes. You could feel the debauchery of it - Damian, on his knees, tie hanging still from his neck, pinning you to the door. You, your legs spread and wanting.

Damian sucked in a breath. Your panties had an obvious wet patch, put there by him. He thumbed it carefully, watching your brows tense and your eyes close, basking in your initial whine. All of it enchanted him. You were soaking because of him, trembling because of him, marked because of him. There was not one place he would rather be than here.

Damian collected your sweetness and sampled the taste on his thumb, trapping it behind his smug smile. He ran his tongue over his teeth, spreading the flavor around his mouth, savoring it. As Damian rolled your underwear down your legs, his cock twitched in his open fly. You were beautiful. Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

“Put your leg over my shoulder,” Damian ordered, smirking, “I want to taste you.”

Warmth exploded in your cheeks. “G-go ahead.”

Gradually, you situated your leg across his back, pussy tensing at the touch of the cooler air. This didn't matter for long. Damian's warm lips nuzzled and kissed the thigh closest to him, painting messy reflective circles on your skin with his kiss. Even that made your legs tense wildly, so Damian shoving his wet, blazing tongue into the folds of you cunt pumped moan after moan from your mouth.

“Damian!” You yelped.

Oh, he definitely liked that. Damian pinched your ass and used his mouth so passionately that his head shook back and forth. He darted right for your clit, sucking it until his cheeks were hollow and humming smugly between your legs with every squeal. Parting your folds with one hand, Damian kissed your core just as dirtily as he'd kissed you. The dangerous glint in his eye never faded. He plunges his tongue inside you in earnest, slurping obscenely, purposefully. There's no need for Damian to shoot you cute looks or put on a show - his skill was the performance, because that skill was unbeatable. Your pussy was already tender, fucked nerveless by Damian's filthy mouth. He vibrated your cunt with a deep groan before he drew away, face dripping with slick like a pornstar’s.

“You're suitably wet,” he said, matter-of-factly, “would you like me to use my fingers?”

All the strength you had went into a weak, pleading nod.

Damian was polite enough to grant you your bearings first, letting you grip his hair and squeeze the counter before he resumes. You give him the sweetest, most precious whine when Damian licks you open again. He wisely starts with one finger and builds from there, earning you with pumps and curls of his digits. Damian's talents quickly become a currency, one that you exchange with mewls and pants of praise.

“So good,” you whine, “oh, fuck - fuck, just like that…”

Damian smirks between your legs, jamming his fingers faster into your sore pussy. Lust sizzles low in your gut, ramped up again and again by his thrusting. It’s so powerful that you roll and buck off the door, your hips in his face. You want him - want him more than you want anything.

“You're ravaging,” Damian hums between licks. His eyes are closed, but that only gives the way he touches you more meaning.

It’s so surprising from his mouth that your hold on his hair slips, setting Damian free. He pants, catching his breath, and it’s easily the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. The effort has slouched him from his knees to his calves, further spreading his legs and opening up the fly of his pants. A solid bulge has formed and spilled out there, straining to escape his briefs like an arm in a sling that’s too small, way too small, for someone of his size. Three of Damian’s fingers are still twisting inside of you.

Slowly, Damian tipped back his head and hung down, arranging himself beneath your cunt. “So beautiful.” His free hand splayed where your leg met your hip. “May I touch you?”

“I-I get it’s the gentleman thing to do, to - to keep asking, but fuck, Damian,” you cursed, “you can do whatever you want to me.”

Damian’s intense jade eyes were so dilated that you could barely make out the color. He dragged his cheek against your thigh, fingers still circling inside you, and grinned like a shark. It was probably a bad idea to give the heir to the Demon’s Head that much power over you.

His other hand squeezed your skin, slow to passionate, from your belly to your breasts beneath your dress. It’s clear by the way Damian looks at you that he loves what he sees. The texture of his veiny, calloused hands feels good on your waist and ass, dragging you closer to him. He chuckles when your back arches, when your nails press into his hands, his back muscles, throwing himself into his task. Damian’s nose prods your folds as he licks you clean, tongue dipping and sliding against your sore clit. It’s like he’s done this for you before, in this exact way. Though he utilizes his tongue the most, his lips too are brutal, matched perfectly to fit your pussy lips.

But that tongue - how Damian’s jaw isn’t tired, you don’t know. He parts your folds and latches onto your clit, flicking his tongue at superspeed until drool and cum bubbles from your sensitive core. Your back winds tighter at every vibrating lick, paralyzing the muscles in your legs with glorious pleasure. It’s so exquisite you start to melt to the floor like warm clay, only to be bolstered back up by Damian, both hands viciously squeezing your ass. He keeps going not for you, but himself, sucking down every last drop of your juices.

Shattered, you twist hopelessly into his mouth, chasing the strained feeling like it’s the last you’ll ever glimpse. “Fuck, fuck - D-Damian, ah…”

“Did it feel good when I made you cum?” He teases, “It certainly tastes good. All those filthy little noises you make for me…” Damian shakes his head at himself, like it’s too fantastic to indulge again. He leaves your clit with a satisfied kiss. “Beautiful.”

Once more, the words are surprising to hear from him. You always considered Damian the prude type, but here he is, on his knees for you, mouth and chin glittering with your juices while he teases you in low, sexy tones. At your surprised look, Damian has the gall to blush.

With his ring finger in his mouth, he ponders, “If a man has never said that to you before...” pop, “consider me surprised.”

“Never while finger-fucking me, at least,” you admited, legs still trembelling. “It was sweet. You… you meant that?”

It was hard to imagine Damian Wayne finding anything beautiful. Even you, who was pretty enamored with him, figured he would judge by quality or skill, not beauty. The words tasted new on his tongue.

Slowly, Damian stood and stretched, his shoulders tight after staying in the strange position for so long. Lifting his arms coincidentally let his waistband sit lower on his hips, flashing his green boxers your way while showing off the huge, carved muscles of his arms. Truly, Damian’s subtlety was unmatched. You didn’t mind his miniature bragging fest - not when he had so much to brag about. Eating you out had put an excited shimmer in his skin, so the gold-toned lights of the room reflected sexily off his sweat, already accenting his kissable tan.

“I did,” he told you, moving on to his sucking middle finger. His other hand played on your thigh, stroking it. “I’ve always been… drawn to you. Every mission we’ve had together. I have a profound feeling that we are very similar.”

You laughed. Not at what he said, but the timing of it. “Would you believe me if I said I felt the same way?”

Damian made a face like his heart was doing jumping jacks. “A few hours ago? No. But now…” he barricaded you against the door, first with his hands and then his hips, closed in so tightly that you had to look past your nose to meet his eyes. “Your crush is adorably obvious. I’m annoyed that I didn’t see it before.”

Your rounded your hands against Damian’s shoulders, then his tie. It twisted nicely around your fingers, silky and cold in comparison to your flushed skin. You were tempted to fix your dress, but nothing, not even the world ending, could make you leave this room.

“My crush is obvious? Damian, all you’ve done for the last two hours is sneak me drinks and imply how much easier it is to be around me.” You grinned, “What’d you say earlier? There you are, Queen. Finally, someone intelligent enough to speak to me.”

Damian shrugged. “It’s true. Your knowledge of bioluminescent ocean life is fascinating.”

“I can’t believe you said that after giving me head for ten minutes.”

“It’s actually been closer to twelve,” Damian smirked.

Playfully, you pinched Damian’s cheek, then pulled him by the tie into a starved, energetic kiss. He must’ve been praying for your permission to continue, because the plan he’d been forming is quickly put into action. You’re hugged, arms scooped under your back as you kiss him. Damian surrenders his mouth to a bit of revenge tonguing while undoing your dress. No amount of kissing will pull him from his task, but your hand is a special case - it smooths down the front of his boxers and Damian melts.

“Y/N,” he groans.

Damian petulantly resists the temptation to close his eyes, but your touch is soft and sweet, demanding him to yield. Your lips suckle on his neck and Damian’s knees buckle. If getting his mouth between your legs didn’t turn him on, then this will finish him for sure.

“I missed you. Kissing you.” You purr into his throat. “One could never be enough for me.”

Is this what it’s like to be wanted? Damian asked himself. The only possible answer thrilled him, and he found himself pouring even more passion into the kiss, into you, wanting to share that rush of affection. You respond to his every touch with vigor. Damian’s heart stalls each time your thumb strokes his face, each time the other strokes him through his slacks.

“Me either,” he rasped, and helped you out of your dress. His tone was shy, but his words held too much depth to be meaningless. I want a wealth of them. I always want to kiss you, was what he wanted to say, but Damian was too embarrassed to raise the words. This moment was too special to ruin with his hopeless romanticism. He kissed you again and again, and to his amazement, you kissed him right back.

“Fuck me,” you begged him between breaths. “Right here. I don’t care if we’re caught.”

I don’t care if we’re seen together. I want to be seen with you, I’m not ashamed of you.

Damian cupped your face and almost knocked you both over with the strength of his kiss. Nose-to-nose, eyes closed, he commanded, “Bend over the fucking counter.”

In a blink, Damian turned and there you were, open and waiting for him. The sink was hip-level, so the bend was nothing but perfect - Damian could fuck you from behind and watch your lust-blown reflection without issue. Your perfect pussy drooled leftover cum down your legs, making your sex shine in the light.

In the mirror, you watched Damian’s eyes darken in delight. His pupils followed the line of your ass to your back, appreciating it like an artist would, like he intended to paint you later and needed to memorize the greatest shapes of your figure. The marble was icy against your hard nipples, which Damian had exposed when he’d impatiently shoved down your bra. Now, he cupped one of your breasts as he bent over you, kissing and suckling his way down your back.

“Perfect,” Damian hissed.

Shyly pressing your butt back against him, you buried your face in your arms and bit your lip, waiting for him to open you up. Damian’s shadow came to hover over you, and in the mirror his eyes were vicious, pools of circling sharks. “Are you ready?”

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Take your time.”

Though you weren’t being sarcastic, Damian took it that way and pinched one cheek of your ass. “With you? I will.” Then, with the same smoothness, Damian asked, “Condom?”

“Pill,” you replied, and Damian nodded his approval.

His pants rustled as they fell down his legs. Where you couldn’t see, Damian committed the sight to memory - his cock in hand, your pussy spread open, all for him. You squeaked when his hot tip touched your cooling clit, and squeaked again when it glided down your pussy and tested your opening. He knew he’d found the way when you winced.

In an unsurprising moment of compassion (for those who truly knew him), Damian kissed the top of your head and offered you his hand. “Would you like to hold it while I…?”

You took his hand and squeezed it to your chest, squeezing him closer in the process, too. “Thank you. Go slow, for this part…”

Damian complied. His sweat-sticky chest hovered warmly over your back. Even if Damian was big, you were wetter than you’d ever been in your entire life - any pain would quickly slide into pleasure. He braced himself with a deep inhale, and a hot, sharp sensation told you that he’d entered you. Where you choked in a needy gasp, Damian poured out his version of a whimper. You both held it. Then, breath by breath, you were struck with the realization that you’d been dying to feel this for weeks, for months, and only now was that heat being satisfied. Damian’s tongue and fingers had come close, but this is what would cure that aching emptiness - his big, girthy cock.

The deathgrip you had on Damian’s hand loosened. “You look perfect,” he murmured into your hair, instantly making your core flutter. “Oh,” he chuckled filthily, “you like that? Funny, how badly that idiot at the bar wanted to be in my place right now…but it’s me who gets to pound into—”

“Damian,” you warned.

He smiled smugly against your neck. “Nothing.”

Dutifully, Damian withdrew his hips, taking all of the heat with him. When he rolled back in, a hot, tingling sensation roared over all of your senses, and you let the moan at the top of that tsunami loose. It was clear that he couldn’t fuck you like he wanted to with one hand fished down at your side, so he glued both to the base of your back and started to thrust in earnest.

“So full...” You mewled, and Damian became a human pile-driver.

Your head seemed to roll off your shoulders with every crazed, rhythmic slam, so you grabbed the faucet and held on for dear life. Every slap was so loud, so powerful, that you prayed this one random bathroom in the penthouse was soundproofed. Anyone walking past would know you were getting railed out of your mind. You tried to compensate by moaning and squeaking quietly, but with force came volume. It didn’t matter how silent you were, Damian’s hips, your ass, the squelch of him inside you - each noise filled the bathroom, echoing off the tile.

The only way you could think to describe him was filling. First, there was the hot, cinching tension of his hands fused to your waist. Then there was his cock, which begged to be squeezed more and more with every pass. You responded to each throb with a mighty clench, which bent Damian over you like an animal, gasping for breath. His balls were painted with your slick. The closer you came to orgasm together, the closer Damian came to you. His hands migrated to higher on your sides, then up by your shoulders, then around you, where Damian kissed your back and rubbed your belly while he made love to you. He talked more than he moaned. Your ear was filled with sweet nothings, with vicious promises of what he would do with a whole night alone with you.

Damian’s reflection was wild with lust. He met your eyes as he fucked you, whispering how beautiful you are, how good you take his dick. His deep green eyes were so dark you couldn’t make out the brown in them anymore. The long muscles on his arms drew taut with each thrust, making his biceps bulge and pin your hips to the sink. Soon enough, a bruise would form from the pressure. One of many treasures from tonight - you would be thinking about Damian in his crisp suit for months to come, and the mess he’d become with you now even longer. Your pleasure built and built and built, like a nail struck further into the ground with a hammer. A very, very big hammer.

“M’ cumming,” Damian husked, slowing his plowing to a sloppy glide. Even his endurance was spent, and you were glad he’d spent it all on you. “Where d’ you…?”

You braced your hands on the counter, then on one of Damian’s. Together, you smoothed his digits down your stomach and between your soft, abused folds. “Inside me, please, please please—” you begged him, “fuck, a-as deep as you can go.”

As a test of your flexibility, Damian turned in and kissed you. Just as he parted your lips with his tongue, he parted your folds with his fingertips, overriding your clit as his cock throbbed inside you to the hilt. He took the invitation as a command. Damian pressed in until you could feel his abs mold to your ass, then stuttered his hips in quick, agonized dips to get himself there. With his fingers and his cock putting stars in your eyes, you finished first.

The white marble counter fizzed in your vision, until all you could see was that powerful, endless white, humming in your mind’s eye. Still, Damian wasn’t finished yet. You bumped your temple against his chin and hummed, “Cum for me, baby… fuck, a-ah!”

Your pussy’s throb raced and raced until it spilled over, pulling Damian right under the current. One clench and he was done for, so the velvety, periodic squeeze of your cunt emptied his store. You hung there, spasming in unison, until that overwhelming heat spurted in a ring around Damian’s cock and flooded out of you. Only then did his fingers stop on your clit, and you settled warmly in each other's arms and tried to remember your names and who you were.

Damian pulled out, then snuggled back in. He would’ve been nervous any other time, but he’d just put his dick inside you, so a little instinctive cuddling could be forgiven. On shaky legs, you turned around and sunk into him. You could tell by how he was eyeing the sink that he was desperate to get clean again, so with one kiss (on the cheek), you set Damian loose.

In companionable silence, Damian cleaned up and you collected the clothes abandoned on the floor. Staring at the corner where you’d just had the best sex of your life put an embarassingly pleasant warmth in your chest. Interesting, how one terrifying moment could become something as special as this. Fascinating, how you’d felt like you’d known him all your life.

“You know… I think you’re excellent, too.” You told him, finishing off the knot for his tie.

Damian dipped his head to hide his smile, but something so bright was impossible to hide.

[reallyromealone]

I return

X

"Are you sure you don't wanna be a cool robot?"

"No thank you papa" (name) said softly and Steve sighed with a soft smile as Eddie cackled at the small boy "whatever floats your boat bud" Eddie said patting theur sons head.

"Dustin's taking him yeah?" Steve said to his husband who grabbed a drink from the fridge "yup, he's still getting ready in his room" the metalhead said offering his son a sip of the carbonated drink "still?? He's never been this obsessed with a costume"

"He wanna make girl fall in love" (name) said innocently as he let Steve put the cardboard box with arms and a head hole on the boy "whatcha talking about bud?" "He got cush on gorwl in class!" (Name) said and the two dad's looked at him wide eyed "dusty...has a crush on someone?"

"He talk bout it to Will all the time over talkie" (name) huffed and mumbled something about keeping him up "got any other gossip bud?" Eddie said playfully "aunty Robbie ated last of cereal" he said simply before waddling off to see what Dustin was doing "I knew it!" Eddie said with an angry Huff and Steve rolled his eyes.

"dusty! Hurry up!" (Name) with a huff and came in to see Dustin dressed as Freddie Kruger and poor (name) began crying loudly at it "what happened?!" Steve yelled as the parents checked up on them, Dustin taking off the mask "(name)! It's dude!"

(Name) looked confused and scared as he ran into Eddie's arms "bud, it's just a spooky costume" Eddie said to the tiny toddler who looked back to see Dustin's face "no monster?"

"No monsters bud, it's just your brother"

"Sorry..."

"Don't be sorry, it startled you"

When everyone was ready the parents went to a party at Eddie's music shop and Dustin and (name) went out trick or treating and meet up with the party where they looked at (name) confused "what is he supposed to be?"

"A cardboard box"

"...why?"

"Dad says he gets his sense of humor from pops side"

"That tracks"

The group went off trick or treating, the six teens keeping an eye on little (name) who was having a grand time "psst (name) trade you for those three Musketeers" Dustin said to the little boy, holding up a handful of (candy) and little (name) looked at the candy in awe "ok!"

One house was giving out soda and (name) struggled opening it "you good (name)?" Max asked and the small boy held it to her "help?"

The redhead opened the can and handed it back to the boy as the group took a short break "you having fun?" Lukas asked the toddler "popa wants starburst" as he then proceeded to eat a starburst "he ated my dunkaroo"

Lukas laughed at this and the group continued their journey, the group talking about a campaign they were working on with Eddie, little (name) to small to be able to hold focus on such a long game and usually hung with dad aka Steve.

When it was around 9pm the group returned to Dustin and (name)s house where they looked at their hauls, little (name) putting aside certain candies like Pez and the likes...old candy brands.

"What's he doing?"

"He likes to put candy aside for grandpa Wayne, they hang out on Saturday when we do our Champaign and Dad goes out with aunt Robin and Nancy"

"What do they do?"

"Grandpa Wayne and (name) work on woodworking projects for a while and then watch old movies and eat pizza until (name) passes out"

"Huh"

"Yeah, it's his most looked forward day of the week"

"Good for him"

When (name) finished his sorting and trading, Dustin helped him clean up and get ready for bed "aight dude, bath time!"

Many bubbles later and (name) was out cold in his little bed and the teens set up their horror movies around the time Eddie and Steve returned with pizza they promised to get the teens before going to check on the tot who was out cold but did notice a few starbursts and a few m&m packs on the dresser "Atta boy"